Internal monologue goes something like this:”Holy shit! What did I just say?! I did it again… My loved one triggered something within me and I lost my temper.”   Noooo dear lover — You did not LOSE it. You could not lose that f****r in a Where’s Waldo animation in the event that you tried.You tomahawked it in your loved one’s mind — HARD. You blew up like a bomb (again) and left shrieking shrapnel throughout the goddamn living area.  Bits of rectal blood, guts and gore stuck anywhere. You can not even see your loved one through all of the dripping, gnarly words. It was an articulated assault of viciousness. Extra strength Pine-Sol will not wash their pitted soul readily.Self-recrimination sets in:”I am such a loser. I am an unlovable wart on the ass of an ass. They’re for SURE gonna abandon me today… I just know it. I’d leave me if I could. Why can’t I ever learn?  I hate myself. I am the world’s worst spouse… no, the worst partner in the UNIVERSE! Yeah… I am a entire pile of doo-doo. I’m the sort of caca a coprophagic canine would not even consume on its wretchedly, ravenous moment.” Well dear lover, as soon as you’ve wallowed adequately enough to be covered head to toe in plenty of shame you have to work on it. You lean into the flywheel and begin that heavy shit moving.  (Hard work and the patience of a demi-god is necessary.) You receive therapized, examined, and read each self-help book as quickly as Amazon (with Prime free delivery of course) can get them into a searchable mailbox. You attempt woo-woo energy work, request advice from your hairstylist, gossip and shout with your BFF and pick up some interesting tools along the way your parents forgot to teach you.  (“Thanks mom and dad — way to go… I will send you the invoice in my $150/hr. You eventually track that shitty response to its source, back that small f****r to a corner pointing at it with a long, drawn-out “Youuuuuu…. !” Then stab your finger into its torso as you tell it to”GO AWAY! F**k off and die why not?! Why the hell can not I get over this shit once and for all?!!! GodDAMN IT! I am TIRED.” Alllll-riiiight dear lover… get back to work!  Whining is for toddlers and you wish to be the arbiter of your own fate dontcha? Lean back in the flywheel and twist that good, emotional disc until your back is aching, your tears have run dry and your palms and pits are moist with perspiration. Trust me lover, it is well worth the effort.You may never feel so free as when that wheel starts to spin by itself and you finally have REAL control over your lifetime.  You are gonna love it! Life will no longer happen TO you… you get to make whatever reality you desire. It F***’IN ROCKS!!*Shift to the present — your new reality* Guess what? That activate shit never goes off.  Enjoy never gets neat enough to place on a shelf, you do not suddenly turn into the connection guru dispensing penny advice to all and sundry AND your previous NEVER stops cooperating with your present. I thought it was gonna be simple after I leaned to that flywheel! Sometimes you’re the pigeon and sometimes you’re the statue. Regardless of what we do, when we’re triggered, our mind is so damn fast it’ll take us into the past at a split microsecond.  (Who knew we were such amazing time travellers!?) All we can do is select another response.We start by learning how to identify the start of a rapid heartbeat, nausea in our gut, or the choking feeling in our throat that suggests a cause is on its way up from the depths of our mind. Bodies never lie, dear lover… NEVER. This is our opportunity to choose an alternate reaction. It is a message from our future selves if we hear.Learn how to recognize those body signs and follow this up with two synchronized, learned activities. (Notice I said activity — not REaction.)To begin with, and honestly, most significant — ZIP IT.  Just shut the F**K upward for an instant .  Whatever verbal vitriol you have bubbling behind your uvula can wait till you have had an opportunity to analyze it and then, if you have to, consciously CHOOSE whether or not to unleash the unholy harangue from hell upon your loved one.Trust me fan, a few seconds will not make a little difference in the event you finally continue on your initial anger track.  It is going to do equal harm whether you choose to prematurely upchuck your previous onto your current or if you decide to wait and, after a cursory examination, opt for ultimate relational annihilation vis a vis your flapping jaws. The big difference is you’re taking responsibility with the next option.Let us assume for the moment that you (sensibly ) opt to have a breather and zip it. Second is to acknowledge your cause and then ask yourself this {} question as you’re looking into the eyes of the one you love:”Who would I wish to BE at the moment?”If your response is,”A crying, salivating orc in the pits of Mordor.” Or”An arrogant, self-important know-it-all who’s always perfect.” then by all means, let ‘er rip and consequences be damned — again.However, if you’re able to examine your loved one and decide that you need to BE somebody who calmly, compassionately, maturely expresses how you feel about the cause you just experienced in their unwitting hands, then you may opt to BE just that.It is a choice, people.   No, it will not be simple. Nothing worth having ever is. If you do your inner work, monitor your routines, stories, sorrows and pains back to their roots and wrap that child in a huge, heartfelt hug, participate in primal scream therapy or anything else it is that floats your metaphysical boat then you’ll have the beginnings of a custom of owning your shit and a opportunity to speak your truth like a rockstar.Notice I said”clinic”.  Nobody is born knowing this stuff and practice is the path to sustainable behaviour. More than anything precious lover, be kind to yourself as you begin down the street towards personal accountability.  Nobody ever develops without failure. Consider it, if you are in a heavenly state, why on earth would you change anything?! It’s our screw-ups that create the chance for change.So as you practice grabbing your body’s signs and your reactions, ensure that you allow yourself to chuckle at your own mistakes.After all, laughter IS the best medicine dear lover!–Previously Released on gracegetzen.comShutterstock

No, it will not be simple. Nothing worth having ever is.

The article Dear Lover, I Lost My Temper — Again appeared on The Great Men Project.

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