I don’t deal with disappointment very well.
I know that might sound like an obvious thing to say, because, who does? But I realized today that I really need to find a coping mechanism for that crushing feeling when things don’t quite go the way you hoped they would.
It is partly my fault, because I was looking at things perhaps I shouldn’t have been. Nothing illegal, mind. Just that normal curiosity, more so now because technology makes it so easy for us to look back at what people were doing this time last year or the other year, and tally that with what we were doing at the same time.
And that’s when I saw it. I wish to God I hadn’t. I wish to God I had Google Imaged Idris Elba instead. But that split second before my world came crashing down around my ears, right before this stress headache hit (it’s moved all the way down my neck, by the way), that split second before the wave of nausea I still can’t shake came over me- I thought, what harm will it do? I’ll just have a look.
And that’s when I saw it. The post that made my happiness a lie and broke my heart and pissed me off and broke my heart and gave me a headache and broke my heart.
I didn’t stop there, by the way. Sitting at my desk, shaking, trying to act normal so the intern stationed next to me didn’t notice that I was trying not to throw up all over my (brand new) laptop. I kept looking. And clicking. And reading. I think that’s when the muscles in my neck bunched up and this damn stress headache intensified.
I’m not yet sad. I’m just pissed off. Because I had promised myself I would never ever ever ever go through this again. I’m super pissed that I’ve let myself down, that I didn’t listen to myself, that I didn’t just NOT GO THERE. I’m disappointed in myself.
And I just don’t deal with disappointment very well.