Growing up, I quickly realized that not all the raindrops in life are lollipops and gumdrops. I continue to reach self-proclaimed checkpoints throughout the years that inspire me to proclaim, if I may quote Pooh, “Oh bother.” There are letdowns, disappointments, and leaps of faith that send us falling unceremoniously to a hard ground below. I like to call these the “Nasty’s” of life.
Whenever my Nasty’s are around, I blame them on three potential suspects—me, others, and pure happenstance. Can you feel my validation in finger pointing? It doesn’t change the situation at hand, but it gives me a sense of reason in being able to understand why I am currently in the mess I am in.
Only after I have played the blame game and feel that I have defended myself to the best of my ability against the Nasty do I retreat to my houses, in my bed, undetected beneath the covers to lick my wounds. These wounds typically involve hurt feelings and/or feelings of regret for what I did or did not say in the heat of battle.
This is also when I let my personal doctors and nurses come to my aid (otherwise known as calling so-and-so up to vent), to give me words of encouragement and suggestions (at times received without my asking and with some moaning) as to how I might better handle a similar attack by the Nasty’s in the future. Reflection, particularly when shared, often permits me a clearer picture of the recent events that just took place.
Then comes the most difficult component to overcoming the Nasty’s. Only after I have calmed myself, after the tears have dried, after the apologies have been made (on my end at least, for I am the only person I have control over), can I muster up the courage to leave my front door and rejoin the world. I remember what my mum always tells me: this too shall pass. And I will be better for it, having survived yet another learning experience.