On Breaking Up
Here is my pattern of reaction to any unfortunate thing that happens in my life:
First, I react extremely logically and rationally. I assess the situation out loud, consider the best and worst case scenarios for an outcome, decide on the outcome I’ll work for and decide to make the best of things. Look on the bright side.
Then, anywhere from 2 to 48 hours after that, after the initial crisis has been dealt with, I start to react to it emotionally. I feel weird. Then, I realize that I actually feel sad. Or mad. Or just bad.
Then comes the third stage. This is the one I wish I could skip. After I realize that I feel bad about what happened, I start to blame myself. Or to question or doubt myself. What is wrong with me? Why did this happen to me? Why do things like this always happen to me? Why am I not a better person, so that I won’t deserve for things like this to happen anymore? Why am I such a loser? Why will I always fail?
Then I have to have a total drama attack. Then, if I’m lucky, someone talks me down out of that, or I talk myself down, and then finally I go back to where I was to begin with – calmly and rationally assessing the facts and moving on to a brighter future.
I’m working hard to eliminate the third stage of this process. I know that it’s only brought on by my own insecurities and not by anything that’s ever actually occurred. Sometimes, the best that I can do is just get through that stage as quickly as possible – let it burn through me like a comet that makes me scream and cry. And then it’s gone, and then I’m okay.
Because I’m always going to be okay. No matter how hard it gets, I’ve made a commitment to take care of myself and of my children.
Philosophically, I’ve been thinking about emotional reactions to break-ups. Break-ups are necessary, aren’t they? You break up when the relationship isn’t the best thing for you anymore. Hopefully you break up whenever it’s necessary – with your boyfriend, with your job, with whatever in life isn’t working out anymore.
Really, it seems like a break-up should be a happy thing – an acknowledgment of your committment to taking care of yourself.
But it’s not a happy thing, is it? Even when you’re breaking up something horrible that desperately needed to end. Ending something is always at least a little bit sad, isn’t it? That’s just the way it goes.
It’s normal to be sad or mad or even bad. But it’s not necessary to be mean to oneself. Not as long as one is doing the best she can to have a good life.
