Stepping Out of Crisis Mode
I've come to realize something about myself. I tend to gravitate toward operating in what I percieve to be some sort of crisis zone. That is, I see problems as crises, sometimes, because, in part, I like going through life as if I'm dealing with a crisis. I don't think I'm special in this regard--lots of people do this, I think--but I also recognize that it's not the only way to be. I'm working on the whole taking-a-step-back-and-taking-a-deep-breath thing. I'm working toward feeling more comfortable with being calm.

Part of this comes, I think, from the fact that I 'really was' in a crisis, about a year ago. I felt the rug o' life had been pulled out from under me; not only had my romantic relationship ended, but now I was faced with feeling abandoned by my ex as a friend, too (whether I was or not is up for debate, but it felt like it); my other friendships were being negatively affected by it; I was feeling both needy and abandoned really as a combo for the first time I can remember. Also, being out of a romantic relationship meant that lots of stuff I had set aside now came back into view--things I ought not have set aside, sure, but still, having them all come flowing back in, all at once...I entered crisis mode for sure.

One Solution
One of the ways I decided to deal with my crisis (crises?) was to start going to a therapist. So far it's had pretty much exactly the effect that I thought it would--it gave me a forum to vent and cry, and has provided some insight. It has been a good way to let some steam off--and I don't mean to trivialize it with that description--I think that's been fundamental to my finding a more peaceful place to live in, really.

But there has been one unexpected result of therapy: I've come to see that I'm not always in crisis mode. That is, I've calmed down. Even the things that I know will be tough for me don't seem as daunting, and I'm thinking of them in terms of the larger picture, rather than in terms of "I've got to get through this". I haven't perfected being calm about stuff, but that's part of the point--there is no 'perfecting' it, there is no state of just being perfectly calm (I think) for very long, any more than there is a state of being in crisis all of the time (for people who aren't in, say, a war-torn or abusive environment, anyway). I can exist here in the middle.

Just Another Friday
One example is this upcoming Friday. It's going to be tough on me, make no mistake. My weekly hangout time with old friends won't happen this week, and it's not because people can't make it. It's because, once a month, I've been uninvited. I understand intellectually the reasons for this, and can even empathise with everybody--everybody--involved in the situation. While I can see some potentially better solutions, I am not in a position to make any of them happen at the moment, so I am in effect, just powerless about it.

This has all of the makings of something I'd go into crisis mode about. It ties into my abandonment fears (and realities!); it places me in a position of absolute non-power; it intersects with my overdeveloped sense of what is and what isn't fair; I feel, to a certain extent, bullied (though that's not rational), which is also a trigger for me. And I am responding in crisis mode to a certain extent--I'm making sure that I'm taken care of that night, in various ways. I'm giving myself lots of potentially happy options. And my friends were gracious enough to do things so that I *could* plan ahead and the like.

But it doesn't feel as much like a crisis as it might. And I realized that last night in therapy--I had gone there all ready to talk about my apprehensions about Friday, knowing that's a good thing for me to use therapy for, but really--I don't have so many apprehensions. It's going to have some sucky aspects; I'm going to feel bullied, a bit; I'm going to feel abandoned, a bit. But I have managed to place those emotions in a larger context, and I don't feel so crisis-y about it. I feel more introspective about it. It's the difference between watching a rat in a maze and being the rat. I can see my emotional reactions, but I am also not only those reactions. It's a nice place to be (though not where I'd choose to be, if I could choose anything, of course).

And I think therapy has afforded me a little bit more of what I need in order to find a path through the rest of my life that doesn't feel like its goign through a battlezone. My heart still races at the thought of all of my fears coming true, but then I recognize that if they all do come true, my heart will keep beating, I will keep walking done some path, so I might as well try to pay attention to the horizon, instead of only looking down at my feet.

Oh, and I probably should take an writing class so that somebody can help me drill the mixed metaphors out of my writing.

Filed under: Therapy