How I’m Coping, or not so much

Life is all about curve balls.  Just when you think you have things figured out, something changes.  At least this is my experience.  Let me tell you, as someone who is meticulous in planning and preparing to hopefully cover all basis, curve balls suck.

 

In the span of about a month I lost my two remaining grandparents.  Both rather unexpectedly.  I have traditionally done well with death.  Logically I understand that it is an inevitability that none can avoid and for most the end of life is more of a release than a suffering.  But I struggled, struggle, with these deaths.

Maybe it is just that since having children my empathy and hormones are haywire or maybe its from being in therapy and reattaching whatever wire actually allows me to feel my feelings, but I’ve been struggling with grief.  And it all began when my dog died unexpectedly last year.  Which, not so coincidentally, led to the long gap in posts here.

Somewhere along the line I became a planner.  I can’t tell you when or where or even if there was a specific incident that caused me to become this way.  What I can tell you is that I plan out everything.  From preparing for a trip to the grocery store to when I want to accomplish certain things in my life.

Side note: Going back and reading that makes me sound like I’m super controlling.  And maybe to some degree I am but it’s more that if I understand the different directions a situation can take, I can mentally and emotionally prepare.  This allows me to enter new situations with less anxiety.  And when I’m anxious there are frequent pee breaks and I tend to come across kinda bitchy.  Thank you resting bitch face.

Back on track: Things lately have not being going according to plan.  And that is frustrating and exhausting as I try to adjust the plan to accommodate these unforeseen changes.  Often, I just want to crawl back into bed and sleep or cry as the mood takes me.  Oh and there’d be cake and pizza there too.

All of these curve balls that I’ve been thrown this last year have me realizing that I’m not the best with coping.  Unless it involved eating my emotions or stuffing them down so I don’t actually feel them then it is safe to say that I don’t really have coping skills.  And this is something that just realizing at 31 becomes another curve ball because I’m at that age where grandparents and even parents start having health issues and moving on past earthly life.

Needless to say, I’ve been working on developing coping skills.  Because apparently it isn’t healthy to stuff feelings down or food in your mouth.  Part of that process is making sure I take the time to feel my feelings and part of it is making sure I’m sharing.  Both of which are painful and difficult for someone who usually prefers to just bottle things up.

So, watch out world.  Feelings are coming and I hear they’re catching.

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