I actually wrote an entirely different newsletter to send out this week, but it looks like we’re saving that one for a rainy day. Because this week, I had a full on mental breakdown. You know — the type that makes you feel hungover for days.
You might be thinking…Sawyer, this is not newsworthy. Menty Bs are pretty run of the mill. But for me, this one really stopped me in my tracks.
I used to be that kid that cried all the time (see proof below). If the sky was a slightly off color of blue, I would cry about it. If you looked at me sternly, I would turn into an absolute puddle. God bless my parents, honestly.
My dad is actually the same way. I have never met a man who cries as much as my dad, and it’s one of the things I love the most about him. He loves people more than anything, and often, he will be telling a story about a complete stranger and get choked up thinking about whatever they’re going through. He is so tender-hearted, and every time I witness it, I am reminded of goodness in a world that is often unkind and unfeeling.
I think he has always seen a lot of himself in me. I remember one day when I was little, my parents were growing increasingly concerned for me, as all parents do about one thing or another, when it comes to their kids. They were very worried that my poor, fragile little heart was too soft for this world, and if I didn’t learn to grow some thicker skin, I would just get chewed up and spit out. They basically sat me down and said toughen up, Sawyer. We love you. Get it together.
I reeeeeally took this to heart. Like really. See, what they might not have remembered is that I am the world’s biggest people pleaser (remember the whole concept of this newsletter?!), and if they said toughen up, then hell, I’m gonna be tough.
So, that’s what I did! Somewhere along the line, I became an absolute expert in compartmentalizing my emotions. I am not sure if any of you can relate to this, but my brain creates kind of a visual representation for this, too. I will feel an emotion, realize it’s happening, and then I can actually picture my brain putting it aside to deal with at a later time. It’s honestly a very trippy phenomenon.
If I feel that an emotion is inconvenient for me to experience at any given time (spoiler, it’s never convenient), then I can neatly tuck it away to sift through at a later date. No problem.
I bet you can see where this is going. This sounds nice in theory, but emotions are unruly SOBs, and they don’t like living in little boxes. Eventually, that tidy little box full of emotions gets full, and it can’t help but overflow. It’s very all or nothing, at least for me, historically. My emotions are either completely out of sight out of mind, which results in me acting like a cold robot of a person, or they explode, and I end up being overtaken by them. Fun!
In my peak years of emotional compartmentalization, I had a boyfriend who was always on me about how I was unfeeling and unemotional. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. I was so out of the habit of experiencing my own emotions that I just opted for not having any at all. I always tried to assure him that this version of me was better than the one who couldn’t help but experience all her emotions at the same time. But now, I’m not so sure.
I’ve spent years in therapy at this point (thank God), and it’s been priceless to me in this area. Something about having a scheduled time to cry and process a few times per month really works for me. But that doesn’t mean that old habits don’t die hard. We’re all humans, after all.
This week, in particular, was full of micro-rejections. It was a nice little cocktail too — some romantic, some professional, some that I think were just me hurting my own feelings (I am highly skilled at the last one). But, as each one came along, I just said “this isn’t a big deal; this isn’t worth my time to deal with this.”
It’s kind of like when you have a roommate, and they leave a dish in the sink nine times, but you never bring it up. That tenth time is usually what will send you over the edge.
This week was my tenth dish.
Cue ugly crying, panicky voice notes, and thanking my lucky stars that I bought a puffy-face soothing ice roller on Amazon. Truly, my bodily reaction to this felt like I was going through a breakup. For context, during my last breakup, I could only eat cereal for a month and I lost like ten pounds.
That’s because little things build up into big things. Little things are important.
You’re not weak, too soft, or “being silly” if you sit with that little thing to just be with it.
Just think of it in reverse. Our lives are so miserable when we skip over the little things that bring us joy. You know, that perfectly balanced flat white, that ray of afternoon sunshine through your living room, or that long-overdue FaceTime with a friend. Small good things add up to a joyful life, so it makes sense that small struggles lead to emotional distress when we don’t give them the same attention.
So, for me, this next week, I am sitting with the little things. Good and bad. I’m giving myself a little extra grace (and let’s be honest, maybe an extra glass of wine, too). I’m slowing way down, and I’m taking life with all its bumps in the road. I want to feel all of it. I want that little girl in that picture to be proud of me.
While I don’t think I would recommend a dramatic emotional purge to a friend, I am really grateful for this week. For a reset. It reminded me of the beauty of staying soft in a hard world.
Anyway, I hope this newsletter was okay! No worries if not! Talk soon! Bye!