I don’t think I’ve ever had a week of consistent emotions. It either starts off poorly and ends on a high note, or begins elated and ends in the doldrums. I wonder if other people feel this way. It’s hard to tell in a world that overshares online, as people on my personal Facebook could tell you. From their postings, you’d think angels snap photos of their precious children, or are patting them on the back every time they complete a marathon. Meanwhile, I’m drowning in mashed potatoes and chicken wings while trying not to worry about fitting into my new pair of pants.
My feelings are the most important thing to me, and they never seem to get a chance to settle down. I’m torn a lot of the time because of other people’s input; input I’m getting from time to time and input I’m desperate to hear. Though I don’t trust easily, I’m learning to let my feelings out in pieces, so I don’t shatter the windshield when I find myself in a wreck.
When you give someone your feelings, you hope they treat them in the way you’d treat theirs. And really caring about someone means you know the course of action that could potentially break them to pieces, but you don’t do it. Why? Because you care about them too much to willingly break their heart.
My problem is I turn my head to the side too much. I look back at all the past actions I’ve taken that set precedents in how I live my day-to-day life. I bank on how people have previously treated me as a barometer for how they could potentially be. And if I’m screwing my head to the side too much, I’ll tire myself out and willingly give myself the whiplash I so want to stabilize.
Bouncing back and forth between extremes gets exhausting, but I think I’m getting a better handle on my feelings. If I keep kicking myself for how I once acted, I’ll never move forward, so I might as well keep things on an even keel.
There’s no cure for whiplash. Only time, patience, and self-care can heal that wound.