Coping?

Coping?

I have terrible coping skills. Rotten. Awful. I know this about myself. If you know me, you know this about me too.

Wait. Not always. If someone else is having something happen to them or if I need to be strong for someone else’s tragedy, I am strong, moved into action and the go-to girl for whatever is needed. I am the rock everyone can lean on.

Send some of that turmoil my way? Well, just look for the quivering heap of a person hiding under her desk with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. (Chunky Monkey, Jenni.) I crumble and don’t see anything other than doom. Trust me, I hate this about myself.

Then I get into the position of wondering: “Do I talk about it with friends and risk them thinking ‘Oh not again with the drama’ or do I keep it inside and risk a slip? Let me tell you, neither option sounds good to me.

So what do you do when you don’t want to do anything? I know I am neither a good wife of good mom when I feel this way. I realize that I am not a good friend or a good volunteer (ie: PTA or soccer mom) either. When I fake it, sometimes that works. When I write about it privately, it can do some good. But when I do the things that have been recommended that I do, then I feel like I am someone else’s burden.

What do you do? I mean, in the still and quiet. When you are alone with just you and your true self. How do you silence the negative shouts of the world that you aren’t sure how to deal with. What is your best coping mechanism when the going gets tough?

I know that Chunky Monkey isn’t the answer. No more than any other option I tend to go to. So I withdraw. I mope. And eventually I snap out of it because I can’t stand being around myself anymore and I move on. Hopefully without leaving too much destruction, pain or chaos in my path.

But rarely is that the case.

I need to learn better coping mechanisms. Right now, I read blogs. I read blogs that make me laugh. Do you know any good blogs that will make me laugh? I want to laugh. That is my goal today. Make me laugh!
—–

Comments are closed.