A strange side effect of getting well and bringing balance into my life is an unexpected increase in emotions. I have a wider range of them, and they pop up at unexpected times, and much more frequently.
Insert metaphor here: It's like yesterday, I had three crayons: red, yellow, and green. Today I have the 48 pack, and then whenever I open something, more of them fall out -- the glove box, the cabinet, the cereal box.
It's weird, it's unexpected, and I'm not sure what to do with all these crayons. I'm used to being a little flat, emotionally, but now that I'm turning 3D again I have to deal with the complexities of it.
Lately I've been feeling the pokiness of life a little more directly than I have in a while. I used to feel the angst of life -- things like parking tickets, slow computers, fading friendships, inflation, missing shoes -- as a sort of general dull ache, but now I feel them like personal stabs. I wish I could turn off this new sensitivity. The smallest rejection feels huge. Logically I know I'm being ridiculous, but sometimes I just want to curl up in a ball and have somebody be nice to me for a few hours without criticizing me. It's the criticism that chips away at me. The students who always need something -- and it's a good thing they do, because that's my job, and I do like it, but sometimes... -- the kids who need things, the constant complaints about who doesn't like dinner and who can't find their shirt and the million other things that I try to control for but can't, just can't, but even if I go all zen and embrace my failure on the mountaintop or whatever the heck it is you are supposed to do, the complaints still roll in like clockwork.
I am frustrated when I see other people living organized lives, and just as I've tamed some of it mine keeps trying to speed up and get more chaotic, but I have to hold it back, hold it back, quit running from the mad dog.