The meltdown is a powerful thing. Sometimes you just have to let it all go and confess your frustrations, fears, and sadness. Tears will be shed, but maybe this is the way you’re supposed to feel and work through pain. A coping mechanism that I realize I have is placing all that hurts me in some place where I can’t experience it with my five senses. It’s like I tuck it away in a ticking time bomb. Or I wouldn’t even consider it a time bomb. It’s more like a cardboard box that you pour cooking oil into. The oil is poured slowly into the box and can fill up, but seeps out slowly through the seams and under the bottom. Soon, the entire box is a greasy mess. When you touch it, there is nothing but grease.
That is what I do with whatever hurts me. I think that whatever hurts me is solid and can be contained in a box. When really it is a slow, fluid, greasy like substance that seeps through that box slowly. My pain is not safe. It’s contained for a little while, until I put more and more oil inside the box, and then the oil eventually takes over.
But most of the time, instead of cleaning the oil, I just get a new box and start to pour more in.
I get angry when the oil in that box starts to ooze out a little more quickly, especially when I work through my issues. Sometimes I think I’m doing ok and that I have everything under control, so I feel like I shouldn’t be oozing this oil.