I am a control freak.
I am totally able to admit it now. Although it is still hard to digest as a self-proclaimed perfectionist. After years of epic meltdowns (most internal, few external) and anxiety filled nights, it all culminated in one chunk of time. I feel like if I can have control, then I can manage when there is hurt, frustration, anxiety, sadness, insert strong emotion here really... When I am talking about control, I just don't mean my life. I mean in general, the circles around me, especially with the people I love and care about. If "my people" are hurting, I am hurting, if "my people" need a problem solved, I am here to solve it! What is so interesting is that attempting to control all of those things, for all of these people has left me up-at-night-anxiety-ridden-constantly-searching-for-answers-to-problems- THAT-AREN'T-MINE-TO-SOLVE!!! Whew. That has taken many years to be able to admit. Thank you hours of therapy, you were worth every penny. Two years ago this control-freak-ness reached it's breaking point as I laid on the couch 5 months pregnant and I'm finally ready to talk about it, although for the record I am still processing and working through a lot. In one week time, my brother had just come out of the closet to our family, my brother in law had just left his wife after finding out that she had been cheating on him and that night, the laying on the couch with my big-ole-self night, my husband was gone at our good friends house grieving with them as they had just lost their father. This was all within a few days of each other and I was trying to take it all in and on at the same time. It felt as if I was Dorthy in the tornado with these scenarios whirling around in my head, "What can I do?", "Was any of this because of anything I did?", "How can I help "fix" this confusion/pain that is going on?" "There has to be something here that I can control...right?" My husband walked in the door and I sat up on the couch, my sciatica pain still not subsiding from the day, and the look on his face was one I hope I don't see too often in our life time. Words are a part of me. When I am excited, frustrated, angry or worried, words are out of my mouth like a waterfall... its how I understand my emotions. They are how I understand me. My husband is the most opposite from that that you could be, especially when he is working through something. He couldn't look me in the eye. His face was grim and he kept clearing his throat as he looked for the words to share with me. Then, he lost it. Wept like a baby. Between his breath catching sobs I managed to translate the news he was giving me. Our family friend didn't just die, he committed suicide. Tornado stopped. Breath was lost. What? Gay brother. Divorced brother. Suicide? How do we begin to process this? We cried. All night. I was exhausted with the weight of these life moments on my shoulders. I prayed, "Ok God. What now?" but neither my husband or I had the answer. We were lost. Our 2 year old woke up the next morning bright eyed and bushy tailed. She wanted to have "the best day ever!" and I wanted to pull the covers over my head and continue my tornado of confusion. Instead, the pain started. This time it was physical, not emotional. I didn't know whether to puke or cry. My stomach was not ok. My world was spinning around me. This time for real... not just in my mind. It was hard for me to separate the confusion in my mind and in my heart and the confusion that the shooting pain in my stomach was sending me. I needed to go to the hospital. I went and they told me I was having a gull-bladder attack, usually brought on by stress. (NO, really?!?) They weren't going to take my gallbladder because I was 5 months pregnant, but I needed to change my norm and try to limit my stress level. Question: How do you do that when you are wired to be in control of all things in and around you? Didn't the doctors understand what was going on in the lives of the people in my circle? This was a clear sign that I needed to stop. I needed to take a step back and figure out how to handle the tornado that was surrounding me and I needed to do it in a way that I had not tried to do it before, because, well, clearly that wasn't working and my body was telling me so. I needed to humble myself. I needed help. Heck, I needed to comprehend this stuff myself. My hubby and I both didn't know where to turn to even try and digest all of this. So we made an appointment with our minister. We told him everything, I MEAN EVERYTHING, in grand detail. It was the first time that we spoke the words out loud.... "Help us understand how to move forward with my brother who is gay?" "Help us understand how to move forward with divorce?" "Help us understand how to move forward with suicide?" How do we support those we care about most? What does all of this mean for us and our journey? HELP?!?! It was as if we needed to speak these scary sentences aloud, to someone we trust in order for us to believe their existence ourselves. Our minister, a wonderful man, changed our perspective that day, with something so simple, yet so profound. He said something that is more powerful to me the more and more I think about it, even two years later. "Guys, what you are working through right now is a lot. Individually, each situation is hard to understand, and collectively, it's a huge thing to be grappling with. What I want to talk about is the difference between Caring and CARRYING." He went on to discuss that it is one thing to care about something, or someone, but it is an entirely different scenario to CARRY that someone or that something on your own shoulders. We talked of the importance of CARE not CARRY. Caring means that you are acknowledging about the struggles that others are going through; praying for them, listening if need be even, even exercising empathy in a way that some humans (ME! ME!) were created to disperse. But Carrying means that you are taking on the pain, hurt, stress, problem solving of others issues on yourself and robbing that person of the journey the God implored them to be on. Wow. Care. Not Carry. I can Care, but I don't have to Carry. It isn't my job. I began to grapple with the implications of this idea. I started asking myself questions: "Who am I to think that I have the ability to carry other people's "stuff"?" "How does God want me to use my gift of CARE (empathy)?" "Why would I attempt to rob Jesus of his Carrying capacity... wasn't that his job, not mine?" "Why am I trying to solve problems that God has elected others to experience?" "HOW DO I GIVE UP CONTROL?" The answer to all of these questions came back to this phrase. Care- NOT - Carry. Suddenly, it was like God had given me a new life filter. The care-not-carry filter. This was what I had been waiting for. This was what I needed to subside my control-freak tendencies. This became my mission over the last 2 years. When situations arose, I chanted in my head, Care-Not-Carry. When struggles were happening around me, I prayed, I hugged, I sent lots of notes, I LIVED the care, and I let God Carry. My journey with this phrase is not over. I think it is just beginning. But it has been a life altering experience, a shift in mindset, heart-set and faith-set. The people in those situations that brought us to our knees taught me more than I will ever be able to put into words. I learned how to love them, pray for them and CARE for them in a way that was healthy, meaningful and purposeful for the journey they were on. I still have questions and I am still digesting all of the happenings of that life moment, but I am doing in with a lens of care in order to continue to learn and grow instead of carrying all the questions like burdens. I'm still a control freak, but one who cares really hard, feels really hard and is letting go of carrying it all on her own. That's not my job. God has been in that position since the beginning of time, and someone trying to take that job away from The Big Guy himself really is just setting themselves up for a life of hospital visits and emotional tornados. From now on I will CARE, compassionately and whole-heartedly, I will not carry. |
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