I’ve never really liked roller coasters. They make me nauseous and I hate that out-of-control feeling, trapped, bracing myself for an inevitable fall. For a brief while as a teenager, I was able to surrender to the experience and just allow my stomach to drop and enjoy the rides, but that ability disappeared after one fun-filled year and I’ve since given up on roller coasters completely.
Lately, I’ve had that awful, out of control, rush and drop feeling again. One day I’m peaceful and stable, the next day I’m crying uncontrollably all day long, and the next day I’m excited about my life and my future and feeling full of energy and possibilities.
I’d love to say that the good days come as a result of employing really effective coping strategies and taking awesome care of myself, but the truth is, I don’t really know how or why they happen. Sometimes I can pinpoint the root cause of an awful day to something specific — like learning something newly hurtful about narc, or feeling sorry for myself that the last of my single girlfriends are getting married, or even just good old fashioned PMS — but sometimes I just have no idea why a day becomes a bad day. All I can do is ride it out.
As I brace myself for what I suspect will be another stomach drop this weekend (visiting a friend’s cottage that narc and I visited together last year), I’m trying to rediscover that feeling of surrender that once allowed me to enjoy roller coasters… letting the ups and downs be what they will be, trusting that I am safe, knowing that – like all rides – this one also will eventually come to an end.
In fact, that seems to be the one good thing that is coming from this persistent seeming randomness of my emotions: it’s reminding me that eventually all things pass. While not so reassuring on the good days, it’s tremendously reassuring when I’m perched at the top of the cliff, heading for another free fall.