Everyone Else Would Raise Their Hand, Too

29 May

I’ve been enjoying the three day Memorial Day weekend.  I think my mind needed to process everything I went through last week.  I kept thinking I should blog about something all weekend, but I just couldn’t think of anything to say.

Yesterday I took a break from my computer altogether and didn’t even turn it on.  I read out on my deck, cooked, worked out, took a long walk on the beach with my daughter, and had dinner with both kids.  It was really nice.

So here I am, trying to figure out what I need to say.  After my last post about needing an escape, I was about as messed up in my mind as I have ever been.  I couldn’t shake it.  I tried every technique I knew, but nothing worked.  I couldn’t even put it into words for the blog.  It was the funkiest funk I can ever remember.  Luckily, I had a coaching session scheduled for Friday at 4:00 PM.  It couldn’t have come been better timing.

I think I cried almost the whole hour.  I was upset with myself for being upset with my mom.  I know I should feel lucky to have her, and I don’t expect her to change, it’s just that I found all of her questions annoying.  At 57, I am not used to having to explain everything I want to do, am going to do, have done and why.  I don’t know what my kids ate for lunch or what they are doing every hour.  I trust that I raised them to make good decisions and that they can feed themselves when they are hungry.  They are 21 and 18.

So her questions about all of this just irritated the crap out of me since I didn’t know the answers and didn’t think I needed to know them.  And then she would get upset when I was annoyed.  And I felt terrible for not being nice to my mom.  I should be grateful to have her, and instead, I was just an annoyed bitch.

On the call, I went through my entire box of tissues, blowing my nose and talking.  My coach was awesome.  He just listened.  “Thank you.  Is there anything else?  And what is present now?” is what he would say.  Never interrupted.  Never gave his opinion.  Just “got it.”

At one point, I was present to such profound sadness that it hurt.  Underneath the annoyance and anger was just hard core sadness.  It was really hard to let it out.  It felt like I would just burst open and dissolve if I did.  And, I was on my last box of tissues so of course I had major “snot” concerns as well.  (I know, gross, TMI!!!)

My neighbor’s girlfriend kept coming out on the deck to fold her laundry.  She looked at me but I just kept my head down.  She was probably wondering what I was crying about but, as my friend Renee says, “Oh well.”  Guess she’ll never know.

At the end of the call, my coach, Owen, kept asking if there was anything else I needed to say.  I kept thinking I was done but more words kept coming out.

Finally at the end, I blurted out “I feel like I’m the only one who ever gets upset like this.”  I actually gulped the air in between sobs.   ” I think there is something really wrong with me because I get like this.  I hate it.  I don’t know what to do about it.”

Owen waited a few seconds.  He doesn’t usually make comments, but this time he said, “If you were in a seminar right now, this is the time when the leader would look around the room and ask if anyone else had ever felt this way.”

I knew where he was going……

“But since it’s just us, I can’t,”  he said, very gently.  “But guess how many people would have raised their hands?”

“All of them,”  I whispered, feeling a little bit of my heart ache lift.

“Yes,”  he said.

I finally smiled.  The clouds lifted and the sun came out.

“Thank you,”  I said.  “I really needed that.”

“Anytime,”  he said.

And my funk lifted.  I was just human, after all.  And, I guess I had needed a really good cry.  It was cathartic.  And exhausting.

And, sitting here on Monday, thinking I should be getting ready for tomorrow’s work day,  I just remembered why I hired my coach.  Because someone told me that this kind of coaching could “disappear” your issues.  Not analyze them, not talk about them, not work on them, but actually make them disappear.

It’s very powerful.  And, the truth is, I don’t even remember what I was talking about for that hour.  It’s just gone.  And, that’s pretty cool.  And, I’m going to have dinner with my mom and kids and I’m looking forward to it.  It’s a freaking miracle!!!!

Enjoy what’s left of Memorial Day!!



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