When my son was first born, I was on the cusp of going into the ministry. Because I was quasi clergy, I felt that I had to put a positive spin on everything. I said obnoxious things like, “thank God this happened to us. We have the resources and a strong relationship. We can deal with this.” Or, “God is good all the time.” I tried to be publically upbeat. When we were in the hospital or at doctor’s appointments, I was always upbeat and even joked with nurses and orderlies. I avoided any public display of emotion. Only when I was completely overwhelmed would I let it come out. (One notable example was when I was in the hospital gift shop. I was getting something, I do not recall what. The cashier asked me how my baby was. I burst into tears and left without making my purchase. I avoided the gift shop the rest of the stay.)
As guys, we have it drilled into us from a young age to keep our shit together. I occasionally would allow myself to cry in the car. But for the most part, I just stuffed it down into a dark part of my soul. People would ask me how my son was doing and I would give a very clinical description, sometime more than they wanted to know. But if they asked how I was doing, I would just say, “I’m hanging in there.” It was complete and total malarkey.
This was a recipe for disaster. I began having road rage. I would blow up and my employees and colleagues. I swore like a sailor. My face began to change. At work I went from being the Gentle Ben to the Mountain Troll. For the first time in my life, people were afraid of me. My stellar career and my clergy calling quickly dissolved. The angrier I got, the more I stuffed it into the dark place, this made me angrier. It was a vicious circle.
Eventually things just started to disintegrate. My world got smaller and smaller, to the point where I had just two friends at work and my immediate family. Something had to change. Then, quite by accident, I discovered blogging. My first blog was all funny stuff. I have a decent sense of humor and I wrote whimsical little stories about my life. But every now and then I gave peeks behind the curtain. People would occasionally be offended but for the most part they were very supportive.
As the years went by, I became more honest and graphic. I stopped sugar coating what was happening and just went with the brutal truth. I occasionally cringe when I read those entries. But on the whole, I felt better. I also started attending seminars on spirituality. I started sharing my story in real time with other people. What I found was that they had equally heart breaking stories with different themes. Slowly the realization sunk in that everyone is carrying around these heroic stories of survival. The more I told my story and the more I heard their stories, the better I felt. I learned to embrace my darker emotions. If I was sad, I found an outlet for expressing my sadness. If I was pissed off, I would find a way to vent my anger. Denying that I had these feelings was pointless and self-destructive.
So if you read my blog and you see that I am in the pits of despair, it is OK. I am just letting off steam. Writing is a freeing experience. I am not always an emotional wreck. Often I am happy. Sometimes it is just for a moment, sometime for days. The pendulum of my life swings wildly. I am at peace with that because no matter the state, nothing is permanent.
So whether you’re having a great or a rotten day, don’t be afraid of it. Recognize it for what it is and know that it will not always be that way.
Ben, thanks for posting this. My family didn’t allow for negative emotions. When I say “my family”, I mean the new family my dad and stepmom created when they married. We had to put 5 cents in a “neggy jar” if we said anything that smacked of complaining. It’s only now that I let my bad feelings be legitimate. Yes, people might mean well, but they can still behave badly.