This is such a loaded question. It’s also one that tends to infuriate me and send me into an inappropriate rage. Some of you may read that question and think it is entirely acceptable. And as a trained psychologist, I know all too well that displaced anger can erupt at inappropriate times and onto the wrong people. But for those of us who are an open book, real and honest with every breath, this question just comes across as insulting.
I have never been very good at hiding anything. I was never great at keeping secrets as a kid and I hate surprises for exactly this reason. As everyone who knows me can attest, if I have a thought about something, you’re going to hear about it – good or bad. I distinctly remember in middle school having “crushes” and having a conversation with myself about not telling anyone…and then telling my best friend the very next time we spoke, and usually my crush too. I often say to myself “there’s no reason to voice that you’re annoyed about xyz, so just let it go”…and then find myself bringing it up moments later. I know that my stream of consciousness does not need to be put on everyone, especially my closest friends and family, and that is why I have always kept a journal and now I share it with all of you.
But why I hate hearing “what is this really about” stems from the feeling that I am not believed. That somehow, even though I always speak my mind, often too much and too honestly, there is room to think that I am really upset about something other than what I have vocalized. This very concept blows my mind. I do not understand why I would change my strategy this time and hide what I am really feeling. I am upset about exactly what I said I was upset about. Sure, you might think that the level at which I am upset is disproportionate to the issue I am upset about, but I assure you that I have told you my truth.
Now, one thing I have realized over time, is that although I do not tend to displace my emotions, I do watch them grow exponentially. I am a problem solver, a solution-focused do-er who is always trying to better myself, my situation, and my surroundings. When something upsets me, I vocalize it with the intention of improving it. Period. When a larger concept is identified as being the bigger issue, I outline the small ways in which that big issue has been manifesting and how it bothers me and how I think it could change. That is just how I operate.
My suggested solutions are not right, but they are mine. And they can only be improved when met with alternative solutions. When I finally feel heard and understood about whatever I have been upset about, and I feel that a solution has been identified and is being put into practice (actual practice, meaning it has not been solved, but the solution is being tested), I move forward assuming that things will improve on the issue. When the small ways in which the big issue manifests continually occur – I am upset about them. All the small ways I am upset about just as they are. And yes, the exponential growth happens because the small ways remind me that the big issue has not been solved, that the identified solution has either not been in practice long enough or it is not the appropriate solution.
When it comes to problem solving, especially with interpersonal issues, I am incredibly impatient. In fact, it may be one of the only ways in which I truly am impatient. I can accept 90% of things that come my way on the the timeline they appear. It is that 10% that I believe someone (myself or other) has the power to make better, that the solution is in someone’s control – if only they would take it. So I am most often at fault for the solution being in practice…and wanting it to immediately work. My logical side knows that that does not make sense and is virtually impossible, but in my mind it follows “now we know what to do, so let’s just do it”. I am not good at letting problems work themselves out over time. I do not like to feel uncomfortable or discontented. I want the bad feelings gone and the good feelings to linger. And I want problems solved, not swept away.
I am not a calm person. I am not quiet. I am not a wallflower. I have passion, intensity, and fury all the same. These are some of my best and worst qualities. When I am truly happy, overjoyed, ecstatic, the entire world knows it – I share myself with you wholeheartedly. When I am upset, angry, disappointed, and hurt, the one who I feel depreciated by is the sole receiver of my pain. This is an awful burden to bare. My emotions run deep and the current is incredibly strong. Sharing my positivity with the masses is joyful, contagious, infectious. Erupting all of my outrage onto one individual is debilitating, crippling, and cruel. I do not know how to stop it, I just know this to be true.
Perhaps this is why I love so strongly, so that those who I love know that when my emotions are heavy and hard, there is more love to pour over than the pain that is pouring out. Whatever I am really upset about does not outweigh that which I value and treasure. If you should ever be the receiver of my fury, and for those of you that have been, please know that. I value you, I treasure you. And I am trying to be patient and kind and better.