Hello, and welcome to 2019. I can’t believe another year has gone by. Crazy. Have you made any New Year’s resolutions?
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I learned a long time ago that doing that only sets me up for failure. It puts pressure on me that, seriously, I don’t need. I think it’s okay to make a list of things you’d like to accomplish in the coming year, but to call them resolutions—which inherently make them imperatives, a do-or-die mandate—puts too much importance on them.
But in the last few days of the year, I made a sudden decision to make a New Year’s resolution. And I’m calling it a resolution because it’s not just something that I want to accomplish, not just something I would like to happen. It is, in fact, an imperative for me. It isn’t to lose weight, or get into shape, or learn a new skill (although, these would all be great things!). I decided that this would be the year I would be change my patience level. When things happen that frustrate me, I will take a calmer approach.
This will not be an easy task for me because the last decade of my life have been very trying for me. Every sector of my life has been in constant upheaval, or in a holding pattern. And if you’ve read my blogs before, you’ll know that I’ve lamented about how I’ve felt like I have no control over anything in my life. Frustration is my middle name. But I need to find a way to rein it in.
What brought me to that decision was an interaction with my mother the day before Christmas Eve. As she tends to do, she began arguing with me about the time we needed to head out to our relative’s house for dinner the next evening. As usual, she pressed all my buttons and I became angry very quickly. After I hung up with her, I had a mini meltdown. It occurred to me that, although I blamed her for getting me in that state, it was actually my own fault for allowing her to get me that way. And it occurred to me that I was possibly doing myself harm. I could very easily give myself an aneurysm. I envisioned gastrointestinal and other ailments in my future from the stress I imposed on myself.
Why? Why do I do that to myself?
The whys and wherefores are for me and my therapist to figure out, but what I can do is change how I move forward with the events that take place. I would like to live a healthy life, not fraught with colitis, or ulcers, or migraines, or heart palpitations, or any of the lovely things that happen when you internalize stress. This is definitely going to be a challenge, but it is an imperative, a do-or-die mandate.
What about you?