Emotional Rescue
Posted by fxckfeelings on June 24, 2010
For those over-endowed with emotion, reacting without thought is dangerous, whether the extra burst of feeeeeeling comes from present love or past trauma. Flying off the handle isn’t good for anybody, so take time before booking your flight to remember that you’ve got better goals than to open your mouth and make yourself more miserable.
–Dr. Lastname
My ex and I had a drama-filled relationship and a rough break-up. Drama because I was drinking, which meant I was sometimes out of my mind, and rough because I got my shit together and tried to make it right with her but she dumped me anyway. The problem is that we work for the same boss, and now that we’re not together anymore, but I’m sober and sane, I’m wondering how to act towards her. Be friendly and normal? Are hugs in bounds? I can’t just ignore her, and I don’t want to, but things are strange. I want to show her that I’m cool, not nuts, and want things between us to be normal (whatever that means).
Be you an alcoholic or a Mormon, you have zero chance of instantly re-establishing friendship with someone you’ve just broken up with. Like cold fusion or a 2010 World Cup game without vuvuzelas, it’s never going to happen.
Since you are an ex-drinker, however, you should know that self-control is something you can never count on, particularly when your feelings for an ex-love are intense and her actions unpredictable.
Yes, you’d love to have a normal friendship; but ask yourself what your actual feelings are, and what they’ll push you to do, and what she’s likely to do in response, and, before you know it, you’ve got an answer that does not include the words “friendship” or “sobriety,” and may well include flying chairs.
Rather than holding yourself responsible for something you don’t control (always a no-no, unless you’re the President or a weatherman), your goal is to do what you can to promote mutual self-control and minimize pain. If that doesn’t meet your definition of “normal friendship,” I repeat, there is no such thing as normal friendship with someone you just ended a relationship with.
Maybe after some time passes and you both forget the hurt and bad behavior, you can get coffee together without excruciating awkwardness. For now, it’s more important that you salvage a working relationship and your job.
It doesn’t matter that you’d like to show her you don’t or do care, or that you’re happy without her, or dying because of her or that wish to re-unite/be friends/have some of that old crazy monkey sex, whatever. You’re entitled to have all those feelings and more, but keep them to yourself if you want to work and avoid a rapid re-enactment of your recent pain.
The standard operating procedure for limiting pain in these situations is labeled “polite detachment,” and blocks you from sharing or responding to feelings that fan the embers. She should get the same treatment as any other co-worker; polite hellos at the water cooler, appropriate eye contact, no flying furniture, and no hugs.
STATEMENT:
Stifle your romantic yearnings with the following directive. “My heart may want to share, but my job is to keep my job and protect my heart from receiving or delivering more hurt. So, if I seem stiff or cold, it’s not to wound, but to create a boundary that will help us both return to making a living.”
I had a tough childhood and spent lots of time in therapy learning how to take my feelings seriously and not let people step on me, so I think I did a pretty good job the other night, during a meeting of our coop board, when my neighbor, whom I like, was sarcastic about a project I proposed. I expect more respect, particularly from a friend and neighbor, so I really felt hurt and betrayed. But I was able to stand up and let him know I thought he’d been disrespectful. I was hoping he’d apologize, but afterward he walked out without looking at me. My goal is to get him to understand I want to be friends, but I won’t tolerate verbal abuse.
Sure, sometimes people are mean and shouldn’t be, and the hurt is real and devastating. It’s your responsibility, however, to figure out whether the mean people can ever recognize their meanness.
(If you’ve followed this blog, you know that most mean, hurtful people never recognize their own meanness, seeing it as retaliation for the wrongs of others, because that’s the way they are. If they recognized it they would have apologized and you wouldn’t be writing me).
When you try to hold a mean-blind meanie responsible for being nasty, he’ll tell you what you did to deserve it, and more. You’ll wind up more hurt, and he won’t.
Your background may have added to your being a very sensitive person. That’s not a horrible thing; your sensitivity probably makes you a better friend, more creative, and more tuned-in.
The downside is that being very/overly-sensitive may make you over-react, over-speak, and look bad, and then, if your right to feel offended depends on how you interpreted someone’s tone of voice (“tired” vs. “sarcastic and demeaning”), you’ll wind up arguing about the unprovable.
Your job then is to stop looking to change the meanie or bring about justice. Make the best of your relationship with him. If he’s worth the hurt, shut up, don’t fight, and keep the conversation cool, at least until you recover. If he’s not, shut up, bite the inside of your lip to keep from crying, and stay away.
In either case, keeping your feelings to yourself means less pain and more options. As a sensitive person, you always need to stop and think before you react. That’s not letting yourself get stepped on; it’s keeping your emotions from trampling all over your life.
STATEMENT:
Here’s a motivating statement: I have better missions in life than to stand up to jerks, regardless of how easily I’m hurt by them. If a worthwhile friend is a sometime jerk and can’t take a hint, I accept the pain, do my best to protect myself, and focus on what works. It’s too bad; but that’s life, and I don’t let hurt feelings determine how I deal with it.”
