I would like to take a moment to point out that in my last post, I didn't speak of defeating and demolishing what controlled me, but rather I spoke of learning to control it. And here's why.
Emotions are not bad. No no. As much as my emotional side controlled my life in a bad way, it also opened my life in a cool way. You see, as a result of being emotionally sensitive, I saw things that other people didn't see. I've always had a knack for getting into other people's heads. I can smell people's problems from a mile away and I get right in there and help them fix it all up. I don't find other people's messes intimidating. I find them compelling. Like a challenge. I'm a pretty quiet, shy person, but I am an A+ listener. I have a soft heart for people, and that is definitely the quality that I like the most about myself. So my emotional drive was my greatest weakness but also my greatest personal strength. Whaaaat crazy right? I just spent two posts talking about how awful it is. JKS.
Here's the thing. Everything in this world has a good aspect and a bad aspect and that's just the world. Nothing we can do about that. But we can choose which aspect we will try to work with.
In Star Wars, those who learn and understand the Force can use it for good or for evil. The thing is, those who use it for evil are indeed mastered by the Force instead of being masters of the Force. The Force becomes a compelling power within them. The Dark Side owns them. Don't be a silly Sith. They are mastered, not masters. Oh but dem Jedi doe. They learn the Force and they master the Force. They are not controlled, but rather they control.
Jesus, dat great guy, he said "my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in your weakness."
2 Corinthians 12:9
My emotions are cray-cray and out of control but because of that, Jesus can come in and be like "I GAT DIS" and he really helps me figure it out.
I am making so many movie references but like, whatever. For all ya Harry Potter fans. When Harry is a child he makes things happen that he doesn't mean to. He's got magic going on inside him but he has no idea how to control it and he's kind of all over the place. He has to spend years and years learning how to channel and use it properly so he doesn't go around letting snakes loose everywhere and blowing up all his aunts.
Jesus is like the ultimate Obi-Wan or the ultimate Dumbledore. But so much better. He helped me out, whatta guy. He helped me so that I don't have to be controlled and knocked down, but rather I can use the power that dwells in my emotions in a positive way. To build myself up, and to build others up.
I learned the Force. I mastered the Force. I'm basically a Jedi.
Wednesday 4 December 2013
Tuesday 3 December 2013
Act I, Part 2: Mastering My Master
Last post I talked about my bed-dwelling habits that stemmed from my overactive emotional side. Oh, emotions. I have always been an emotional thinker. I am so sensitive to everything people say or do. I take almost everything personally.
When I was a child, I described myself as a bit of a "spaz". My emotions would react to situations I encountered before my logic and reason even had a chance to process what was happening. I remember once in grade 6, a boy in my class was making fun of me or something and my automatic reaction was to try to flip his desk on him. Good times, good times. It didn't work cause he was bigger than me, but it's the thought that counts.
That was me, sensitive to everything, emotions always running high. It's always been my greatest weakness and my largest stumbling block.
I don't really know about your life, but I figure we all have things that control us to a certain degree. All through my life I have been controlled by my emotions and it has almost always gotten me into trouble. Hence the bed-dwelling social strategy. Once you've identified your master, that which overcomes your life, I believe you have a choice. You can allow yourself to be overcome, or you can master that which overcomes you.
My emotions ran rampant and controlled my life for oh so long. And it wasn't seriously detrimental enough for me to bother to take action against it. Oh, but then it was seriously detrimental. For a while I let it happen. It was like I was watching my life happen from a perspective not my own and I just let the scene play out in front of me.
But then, after a while, I got to a point where I was like ummmm you know what, no. I am sick of not being in control of my own life. So, I gave it a try. And I gave it a hard try, not a shallow try. This was my freakin life. NUH-UH I'm done with this crap. It was great and all wallowing in my sadness but I was kinda over it. And believe me when I say that taking control of that which controls you is not easy and I know it. It took literally every bit of strength and energy I had to make the conscience effort to fight against my controller.
The reason I was able to take control was because of the heartbreak of a harsh reality hitting me square in the face. It broke my comfort. It made me uncomfortable accepting the lies and over-exaggerations my crazy emotions tried to feed me. It made me critical of what I was thinking and feeling. I didn't trust much. I had been let down.
I honestly can't even tell you exactly how it happened. But somewhere between heartbreak and recovery, a different side of me emerged. I started thinking more and feeling less. I'm not a heartless monster but my emotions do not rule my life. My emotions had gotten so crazy and out of control they had led me to a do-or-die moment. I had a choice give up or to fight back. And I fought.
I really wish I could talk to 16 year old Laura. I wish I could tell her that she is so much more than she thinks she is. I wish I could let her know that one day she will really, truly love herself and that none of what is eating away at her will matter anymore. I wish I could tell her that one day she'll win. That she'll conquer.
Spending a day or two relaxing in bed is a wonderful thing. When the bed life is everyday life, when it becomes your lifestyle, you have a problem. It should be your choice to relax in bed, not something done out of compulsion and fear of the outside world. Bed won't save you. But you can save you. (with some help)
When I was a child, I described myself as a bit of a "spaz". My emotions would react to situations I encountered before my logic and reason even had a chance to process what was happening. I remember once in grade 6, a boy in my class was making fun of me or something and my automatic reaction was to try to flip his desk on him. Good times, good times. It didn't work cause he was bigger than me, but it's the thought that counts.
That was me, sensitive to everything, emotions always running high. It's always been my greatest weakness and my largest stumbling block.
I don't really know about your life, but I figure we all have things that control us to a certain degree. All through my life I have been controlled by my emotions and it has almost always gotten me into trouble. Hence the bed-dwelling social strategy. Once you've identified your master, that which overcomes your life, I believe you have a choice. You can allow yourself to be overcome, or you can master that which overcomes you.
My emotions ran rampant and controlled my life for oh so long. And it wasn't seriously detrimental enough for me to bother to take action against it. Oh, but then it was seriously detrimental. For a while I let it happen. It was like I was watching my life happen from a perspective not my own and I just let the scene play out in front of me.
But then, after a while, I got to a point where I was like ummmm you know what, no. I am sick of not being in control of my own life. So, I gave it a try. And I gave it a hard try, not a shallow try. This was my freakin life. NUH-UH I'm done with this crap. It was great and all wallowing in my sadness but I was kinda over it. And believe me when I say that taking control of that which controls you is not easy and I know it. It took literally every bit of strength and energy I had to make the conscience effort to fight against my controller.
The reason I was able to take control was because of the heartbreak of a harsh reality hitting me square in the face. It broke my comfort. It made me uncomfortable accepting the lies and over-exaggerations my crazy emotions tried to feed me. It made me critical of what I was thinking and feeling. I didn't trust much. I had been let down.
I honestly can't even tell you exactly how it happened. But somewhere between heartbreak and recovery, a different side of me emerged. I started thinking more and feeling less. I'm not a heartless monster but my emotions do not rule my life. My emotions had gotten so crazy and out of control they had led me to a do-or-die moment. I had a choice give up or to fight back. And I fought.
I really wish I could talk to 16 year old Laura. I wish I could tell her that she is so much more than she thinks she is. I wish I could let her know that one day she will really, truly love herself and that none of what is eating away at her will matter anymore. I wish I could tell her that one day she'll win. That she'll conquer.
Spending a day or two relaxing in bed is a wonderful thing. When the bed life is everyday life, when it becomes your lifestyle, you have a problem. It should be your choice to relax in bed, not something done out of compulsion and fear of the outside world. Bed won't save you. But you can save you. (with some help)
Monday 2 December 2013
Act I: I didn't choose the bed life, the bed life chose me.
So. In my very first post I said I was going to tell you a story. A story about me. A sort of ugly story. I think sharing our stories is super important. And now that I've given a bit of an introduction to the major themes in my life, I'm ready to go.
I don't pretend to be a theological scholar and my intention is not to make a social commentary. I don't think my opinions count for anything to anyone except for myself. lol I can barely live my own life so I'm certainly not going to attempt to take yours on too. I just want to tell ya'll a story.
I'm a relational person. If anyone knows me, they know that I like to spend a lot of time in bed pretending the world doesn't exist, but I lay in bed pretending the world doesn't exist because I am a relational person. It all makes sense, I swear. I am an emotionally passionate person, but not an emotionally strong one. Having personal relationships with people is what adds value and joy to my life. But when those relationships also dish out hurt, I retreat like a turtle into my shell. Or like a clown fish into an anemone. The anemone is a better analogy. I'd rather be a clown fish than a turtle. Depending on the type of turtle I suppose. Anyways... After a while, the seclusion gets comfortable, and staying in the anemone becomes more desirable than going out into the ocean because you're safe from harm. Your life isn't getting better, but it's not getting worse either, and that's worth something. And that, my friends, was (and sometimes still is) my mindset. So I stayed in my anemone, keeping the bad out, but often keeping the good out too.
While the initial appearance of protection seems appealing, it began to eat away at me. Because I am a relational person and I need connection with people.
I have been using this coping strategy for as long as I can remember. Avoid the hurt, just avoid it. My bed won't hurt me, my bed provides me with comfort and warmth. Why would I leave it to have to deal with people? Makes puuuuurfect sense. I would love to be a cat. They just lay around and sleep and eat and do their own thing and don't really care about the humans. Unfortunately, I am not a cat, and whether or not I choose to admit it, I care about the humans.
I was never (not even now) actually comfortable with who I was as a child or a teenager. I tried my best to be friends with people but I would flip flop between trying to be a part of the group and hiding in my bed. Petrified of any kind of rejection, I just didn't put myself out there. To some degree that has been a part of my personality my whole life, but it is also partly a learned reaction. Because I'm oh so emotionally sensitive, everything that happened to me that could be perceived as rejection, would appear clearly as rejection in my eyes. Therefore, I saw rejection everywhere and pulled the blankets up over my head for protection from it all. Half of it wasn't even real. It was me not being able to navigate relationships and handle my environment.
When I was in grade 11, my biology teacher noticed I wasn't looking too well and talked to the guidance department. Before long I was having weekly appointments with a school psychologist. I had real problems going on then. Family health concerns and whatnot. But when it came down to it, I was handling that stuff pretty well. What was eating away at me more than anything was a dysfunctional friendship that I had poured my heart into. I felt abandoned and alone and I believed, for real, that I wasn't that good of a person. Truly though, as a result of my shell/anemone/bed coping mechanism and my fear of rejection, I didn't allow my personality to show half the time. I was shy and weird. And I felt like an unnecessary addition to my closest friends. I just accepted it as part of my identity and tried to move on. (FYI: this is not how I wanted to feel. I was not feeling sorry for myself. If I was feeling sorry for myself I would have gone around saying "Oh look at me I'm so sad, nobody likes me, blah blah blah" to get validation from all my friends. This wasn't a surface issue. I legitimately believed, deep down inside myself, that I wasn't as worthwhile as some other people.) Until this school psychologist challenged it. I saw her every Tuesday at 11:30am all through grade 11. I came out of that with a much healthier perspective on relationships and how to negotiate my way through relationship-based problems. Twas grand. One step in a better direction. Still not the right direction, but i was getting there.
There we'll leave 16 year old Laura for now. Slightly emotionally unstable but still mostly a good egg.
I don't pretend to be a theological scholar and my intention is not to make a social commentary. I don't think my opinions count for anything to anyone except for myself. lol I can barely live my own life so I'm certainly not going to attempt to take yours on too. I just want to tell ya'll a story.
I'm a relational person. If anyone knows me, they know that I like to spend a lot of time in bed pretending the world doesn't exist, but I lay in bed pretending the world doesn't exist because I am a relational person. It all makes sense, I swear. I am an emotionally passionate person, but not an emotionally strong one. Having personal relationships with people is what adds value and joy to my life. But when those relationships also dish out hurt, I retreat like a turtle into my shell. Or like a clown fish into an anemone. The anemone is a better analogy. I'd rather be a clown fish than a turtle. Depending on the type of turtle I suppose. Anyways... After a while, the seclusion gets comfortable, and staying in the anemone becomes more desirable than going out into the ocean because you're safe from harm. Your life isn't getting better, but it's not getting worse either, and that's worth something. And that, my friends, was (and sometimes still is) my mindset. So I stayed in my anemone, keeping the bad out, but often keeping the good out too.
While the initial appearance of protection seems appealing, it began to eat away at me. Because I am a relational person and I need connection with people.
I have been using this coping strategy for as long as I can remember. Avoid the hurt, just avoid it. My bed won't hurt me, my bed provides me with comfort and warmth. Why would I leave it to have to deal with people? Makes puuuuurfect sense. I would love to be a cat. They just lay around and sleep and eat and do their own thing and don't really care about the humans. Unfortunately, I am not a cat, and whether or not I choose to admit it, I care about the humans.
I was never (not even now) actually comfortable with who I was as a child or a teenager. I tried my best to be friends with people but I would flip flop between trying to be a part of the group and hiding in my bed. Petrified of any kind of rejection, I just didn't put myself out there. To some degree that has been a part of my personality my whole life, but it is also partly a learned reaction. Because I'm oh so emotionally sensitive, everything that happened to me that could be perceived as rejection, would appear clearly as rejection in my eyes. Therefore, I saw rejection everywhere and pulled the blankets up over my head for protection from it all. Half of it wasn't even real. It was me not being able to navigate relationships and handle my environment.
When I was in grade 11, my biology teacher noticed I wasn't looking too well and talked to the guidance department. Before long I was having weekly appointments with a school psychologist. I had real problems going on then. Family health concerns and whatnot. But when it came down to it, I was handling that stuff pretty well. What was eating away at me more than anything was a dysfunctional friendship that I had poured my heart into. I felt abandoned and alone and I believed, for real, that I wasn't that good of a person. Truly though, as a result of my shell/anemone/bed coping mechanism and my fear of rejection, I didn't allow my personality to show half the time. I was shy and weird. And I felt like an unnecessary addition to my closest friends. I just accepted it as part of my identity and tried to move on. (FYI: this is not how I wanted to feel. I was not feeling sorry for myself. If I was feeling sorry for myself I would have gone around saying "Oh look at me I'm so sad, nobody likes me, blah blah blah" to get validation from all my friends. This wasn't a surface issue. I legitimately believed, deep down inside myself, that I wasn't as worthwhile as some other people.) Until this school psychologist challenged it. I saw her every Tuesday at 11:30am all through grade 11. I came out of that with a much healthier perspective on relationships and how to negotiate my way through relationship-based problems. Twas grand. One step in a better direction. Still not the right direction, but i was getting there.
There we'll leave 16 year old Laura for now. Slightly emotionally unstable but still mostly a good egg.
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About Me
- Laura Morrison
- I like the outdoors, ice cream, and my pet bunny. I enjoy long walks on the beach and intellectually stimulating conversations. But mostly I'm just a cuddler.