I’ve written before about my lack of resilience, about my inability to bounce back after negative experiences.
I’ve never been good about absorbing small losses. Something as slight as being cut off by a rude driver or hearing a snarky comment from a stranger can derail me for hours.
But it occurred to me recently that it’s not just that I have trouble rolling with the proverbial punches. I have trouble rolling with the hugs too. I simply don’t do well when my plan or my routine gets knocked out of sync.
Take the last week for example. Granted, it featured its fair share of punches.
Tiny Baby woke up last Monday night with the tell-tale barking cough of the croup. After two doctor’s appointments, five days of prednisone (you haven’t seen anything till you’ve seen an 18 month old with ‘Roid Rage, I tell you), and lots of extra snuggles, he is mostly recovered.
Meanwhile, I had some dental adventures to match his medical ones. I spent two hours in the dentist’s chair on Friday getting a temporary crown put in (installed?), only to return for another session on Saturday after the original one popped off.
But, mostly, the week was filled with good stuff, the aforementioned hugs. We got our new car…ahem, van. We finished up two home improvement projects that had been on our to-do list since we moved into our house three-and-a-half years ago. We attended a joint birthday party for two of Big Boy’s favorite friends. My sister-in-law, aka All-Star House Guest/Kid Wrangler Extraordinaire, visited for four days.
Sounds great, right? Like the good far outweighed the bad? And like I should be sitting here basking in the glow of time well spent?
The problem is that, even when my weeks are filled with more Hugs than Punches – which, thankfully, they generally are – I still get antsy. You see, in some ways, the Hugs disrupt the usual rhythm of my days as much as the Punches do.
In both cases, I ignore my Happiness Project. I don’t exercise. I don’t write. I read much less. I let clutter overtake the house. In short, I don’t take care of the things that make me feel most like Me.
I thrive in a world without incident. One dominated by routine and order. But how pathetic is that? And how problematic, given that most of life’s highest highs happen outside of a routine?
Are you good at integrating both the Punches and the Hugs? Any advice for this Resilience Reject?