Writing Excersise #2: Coping

After reading this chapter, I am somewhat confused, intrigued, and scared. I never knew that many of the ways that I deal with things could be considered coping. I have always that the only way I coped was pushing it back into a box of sorts and locking it up. Sure, it got lose from time to time, but for the most part I have always just put it away. That was honestly the only way I knew how to deal with it, not to mention the only way that I felt like I wasn't going to go crazy. Like I said, I never knew so many of the little things that I do daily can be looked at as a coping mechanism. Even E has pointed out somethings that I do that she views as a way coping. The best way I can describe these discoveries is to make a list. Which, by the way, I have been told that my constant need for structure and order is another way of coping.

• I'll start my need for structure, order, and consistency. I always thought my love for math, history, lists, outlines, and the like was just something that I just enjoyed. But the morning I am learning, not only about myself, but about recovery and healing, is telling me that I enjoy those things because they are always the same. They never change, they never leave. 2 + 2 will always be 4 no matter how you change it. The Civil War will always be an American war on American soil. Lists and outlines are my way of organizing my thoughts and feelings. They are way of weeding out bad thoughts, ways of possibly getting embarrassed, or not making sense. I can write and rewrite until I am happy with the outcome and feel comfortable about whatever it is I am going to do with it. Beneath all of that, I have been told that it is a way of making things my own. Of taking control of the situations and feeling comfortable with the fact that I can always rely on the consistency of the known, instead of fearing the unpredictability of a situation.
  
• Next is my ability to fake things. I touched on this a couple of times, but the ability I have of being able to fake adaption to any situation is both a good and a bad thing for me. The good being that I can walk into just about any situation and deal with it. Anything from a job to a bar, I have always been known for my way of walking into a room like I own it. The bad is that on the inside on all of those situations I am dying inside. Constantly questioning what people are thinking of me, if they are looking at me, why I am there, and how am I going to deal with this without people knowing that I am freaking out on the inside. 75% of people, even my very close friends and family, have, or had, any idea that I was truly like that. Hell, even the people I consider to be closet to me and have complete and total trust in didn't know how bad I was until the last few years. It always amazes people how scared of everyday life I truly am. To me, it is just another day. Another fake smile that I put on until I am by myself.
  
• I am that friend that everyone comes to for help, support and honesty. I had never thought anything other than I was just one of those people that enjoy seeing others happy and figuring out those problems with them to feel useful. I had honestly never thought any more of it than that. But from what I have read and been told, it is my way of trying to help everyone and not face my own fears and problems. My need to make sure people are happy and taken care of is my way of securing that others aren't hurting like I am. To make sure that everyone close to me is secure in their life and that no problems can get to them without going through me first. My severe protection of my friends is my way of saying that nothing will hurt them, or me, again. While this can be a great thing, and I do enjoy being there for the ones I care about, it ables me to push my own fears and problems to the back of my mind. Knowing what they are going through makes it easier for me to say that my problems are nothing compared to them, not to mention that they don't need to hear my fears when they have so much going on in their own lives. Until recently I never realized how true that actually was, but it is.

I started writing this about 3 weeks ago.... for some reason it never got finished. I don't know where I am at this point. E had told me to expect to go through a period of non-activity. I didn't realize that she meant it was going to stop me from being able to write or enjoy a book, but it did. I don't know when I am going to finish it. But I know I will, at some point. I go back to E on Monday, maybe that will get me back in the deal with it mode that I was in.