Yesterday, my psychological and emotional state resembled the weather in the Netherlands. The weather forecast had predicted unstable weather. The royal meteorological instituted had even had released an extreme weather alert. The forecast revealed to be rather accurate. At the end of the day, we had heavy rain, strong wind gusts and some serious thunder and lightning. Somehow, it felt good the weather agreed with me; it was time to release some tension.
I started my day rather absentmindedly, I somehow was unable to land in the now. At eleven in the morning, I finally had the clarity of mind to stop doing and listen to my body. It felt heavy, like the weather. I felt like crying and sleeping. So I went upstairs to sleep. In the middle of my sleep I was woken by a ringing telephone. I answered. It was my husband. He had two simple requests. My brain short circuited. It seemed I was unable to process requests with more than one variable. Even one variable would have been challenging. After that I cried. I cried and could not stop. I cried because was stressed, frustrated and I felt guilty. Guilty for not being able to take some load of his shoulders. Guilty for not being able to be the wife I want to be. Guilty for being stressed over nothing, essentially.
I twittered about it. That was not easy, because I know from experience that most people only see a drama queen, having a pity party, fussing over nothing. But yesterday, there also were people who understood what was happening, who could relate to what I was saying. That meant the world to me. There was a sense of recognition, of connection. It was priceless. One lovely lady called it a ‘discharge’. And that landed me in the now. Because that’s exactly what it was. A discharge of tension that had built up for days. My easily stimulated brain was overstimulated and needed to discharge to get equalized again.
As the day progressed, with one drama after another, some small, some really ugly (I sweared like a fishwife at the idiot who through uncareful driving, almost hit my girl and her friend while they crossed the street using a pedestrian crossing), I turned my mind around. I was doing my best. Only today, my best was different than my best on any other given day. And that’s okay. I am not proud that I snapped at my daughter, but I am proud at the moments I did not snap. Proud that on a day with almost zero tolerance for stress, I was capable of caring and compassion. Proud I was able to put my daughter’s safety and emotional needs first (most of the time). Proud I was able to turn my guilt into pride. Proud I twittered about my discharge like other people twittered about the weather.
photo by Ronny Beliën
Categories : stories
Tags : body, frustration, hsp, mind, proud, struggle
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