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Fire The Micro Manager

I went to bed last night convinced that I was going to relinquish at least some of my need to control my surroundings. The more things spin around, the more I want my little piece of the pie to be sterile and controlled. While I know intellectually that life gets darker when I behave this way, I still return to that place on occasion. Is it a comfort level that exists because it’s familiar?

Once there, I become fearful and paralysis sets in. The next thing I know, my arms are numb and lay useless at my side, I can’t turn my head and I’m sippin’ Jell-O water out of a straw as someone wipes the drool from my chin. Ironically enough, that is the very place I’m trying to avoid…I hate when others make decisions for me.

A few years ago, I injured my ankle playing volleyball, and I had surgery leaving me restricted to a chair with my foot propped up for nine weeks. I took pee breaks and gimped from a chair to bed – that was it. A confined control freak is a recipe for Armageddon. Lyle was forced to be my nursemaid, and what I remember most is hearing, “You’re just fine; you don’t need that right now.”

Don’t tell me what I need. I’ve got that under control, thank you very much. Just thinking about being that dependent on someone else makes my shoulder muscles cramp up. It wasn’t a pretty recovery, and considering it was only a year after a knee surgery following a skiing accident, I figured I better redesign my exercise schedule. It’s really quite incredible that Lyle and I made it through that. He’s a better man than me. Maybe he really did know what I needed, but I was just too bull-headed to listen.

When I lost the weight, I learned that I had to put my needs above the perceived needs of others. That is a tricky balancing act given the fact that I want people to like me, but I have a feeling it is time to start satisfying myself. To truly find inner peace and happiness, I need to relinquish some control to be open to opportunities that wait.

How do you do that?

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2 Responses

  1. I just realized that these are the things I do, because YES! I’m still yammering at 60…so, I probably will be at 85. That’s why these are the things I must keep doing again and again.
    I get that you are in the worst of it. Sounds like the times that I think…OK, just think it mentally, even if you don’t feel any better (yet). 12-step ” fake it til you make it”, I guess.

    It helps me to realize that there are tons of women out there whose smiles are not real, but they just keep on going with no clue about any other way.

    In other words, you are working a program…some folks don’t even know about the program.

    Glad to see that my note helped. I was afraid it would sound “preachy”.

    My husband did one of his 2 year old snitty things last night, and I used to think things like ” I can’t live like this forever” etc. Now, I feel sorry that he doesn’t have a better program. And I am able to let go (refuse to put my mind into it) and move on. And when I learned to do that, the “snittiness” diminished greatly. I really can’t give a better reason for why it changed.
    I actually had forgotten all about it when we talked this AM, just remembered as I was writing. In the past, I would have held it against him as soon as I woke up.

    MA

  2. I definitely agree that there is something to be said about faking it until you make it. I think there is something positive about shifting the energy to a place that I at least hope to be even if it’s not where I at that particular moment.

    I think that is much better and definitely different than not having an awareness that it could be any other way. I feel bad for those who don’t realize it could be another way, but are still miserable. I may not always be where I want to be, but I think, or at least hope, I can get there.

    Good for you for not getting sucked into your hubby’s fit. Sometimes that is the toughest thing to avoid. I’m really good at stirring things up and then suddenly we both forget that it was his fit and then I’m the witch. It takes practice, and I agree, when I stay in a detached place, I can feel more empathetic for him.

    Hang in there and thanks for commenting.

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