This has been a weird few weeks. I have accomplished a lot of milestones in my job, got some good health news, and have done my usual routines to meet bare-minimum basic functioning needs. After the highs of the last two months, the other shoe had to drop eventually.
*You are probably wondering, where the drawings at? Where are the fun stories we were promised about a terrible Bumble date and rituals to get over breakups? They are coming, I swear, but I am taking time to process things and write what needs to come out as it happens*
For my friends from Sciences and other lay-folks, I am talking about sublimation in psychology. Freud believed that sublimation is a more mature defense mechanism. It is when people transform socially unacceptable impulses or idealizations into socially acceptable actions or behaviours. As a side note, it is also believed that long-term sublimation can lead to lasting conversion of the initial impulse, strengthening behaviour patterns. I am really good at over-analyzing myself, but I think I sublimate negative feelings like anger, sadness, and disappointment to a pathological degree, leading to an almost masochistic denial of totally normal human weakness and push myself to the brink of both mental and physical exhaustion. Perhaps this is why I have chronic infections...
Anyway, I don't deal with anger very well. I generally sublimate it into something ridiculously productive like working out (losing about 8 pounds in a month and a half, oops!) or major organization and cleaning projects (washing literally every article of clothing I own and pre-hanging enough outfits to get me from yesterday through January 2019). Even though I live for being a vessel to foster vulnerability in others, I am pretty terrible at acknowledging vulnerability within myself and accepting even the most basic help from others.
It was an especially challenging week for me. With the holidays coming up and a string of anniversaries and birthdays, I have had to repeatedly confront the numerous enormous changes in my life over the last few months. It's going to sound like I am a whiny bitch, but retelling the same story to different friend groups was at first cathartic, but eventually became a source of anger and disappointment as more and more evidence of romper room fuckery came out of the woodwork from diverse friend groups.
Posthumous anecdotes about spending the last 8 years with a dreaded, evil, never-fully-present, resented, and disliked narcissist begs the question, why does everyone tell you this after you've broken up? Tearing down the villain/dumpee, although genuinely intended to bolster the confidence of the dumper, still reinforces that they initially (or in my case repeatedly) made bad decisions, and dredges up that foolish feeling of despair for investing so much time and effort into a plague-rat-infested-sinking ship. I had a great conversation with a hair stylist about this topic, no amount of "YAASSSS KWEEN"s, "YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING AND MORE, SO GLAD YOU FINALLY DUMPED HIS UNDESERVING ASS" dissuades the nagging feeling that everyone was talking behind your back about what a dumb-dumb you were for years.
My dad came in clutch for a real talk on Thursday. I feel no resentment toward my family, friends, and everyone who saw past the jawline and charm to the flaming garbage patch within (I kid!). There are no hard feelings and I know how many factors went in to this, as well as many similar, situations. It is so complicated, and there are always reasons (they didn't feel like it was their place, they didn't want to start something unfounded, how do you even begin that conversation, etc!). Feelings are feelings, and they can be pervasive and sneaky even with the most ironclad logic and intestinal fortitude. I think it is pretty human to feel like a fool after the dissolution of any relationship that pushes almost a decade, be it marriage, engagement, or long-term commitment.
I realized that in 11 years of being in relationships, I have no idea how to function with an emotionally-stable, enthusiastic, and mutually supportive partner. That is pretty dang sad and horrifying. Of all the things to process, this has been the most shockingly devastating. I am discovering sneaky bad habits. I have had to do a lot of heavy emotional labour, for a long ass time, and I haven't come out quite as unscathed as I initially hoped.
Juggling multiple, incongruous roles in relationships has probably not set me up for great future success. The weight of the intense personal work undoing these now maladaptive patterns has been gnawing at the back of my mind as I embark on the wondrous journey of finding a mate. Trying not to be a raving animal foaming at the mouth in response to basic kindness is surprisingly challenging.
2019 is going to be the year! The preamble to the new year is goal setting season. I think a reasonable goal is allowing someone else to help me do things like fold blankets, arrange pillows, or do dishes without screeching in protest. One of my worst fears is that my notoriously terrible and unsupportive roster of exes will sneak back into my mind and taint the genuine and kind actions of a worthy suitor. Talk about masterful levels of overthinking! One of my new mantras is, "shut up and let yourself enjoy this".
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