Picture this! It was a Wednesday morning in the midst of winter on the East Coast. Ice covered the ground. I woke up still in a tumultuous mood from my intense therapy session from the day before. Ben was still asleep in bed. After I tended to the cats feeding, which they will not let me forget to do, I went into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of French press coffee.
I put a pot of water on the stove to warm up, I ground up the coffee beans, I got my mug out and ready. When the water was ready, I poured it over the grounds and covered it to let it steep. I had a bit of extra hot water left, and I heard Ben starting to stir himself awake. I thought it would be a really nice gesture to bring him some hot tea in bed. (He doesn’t drink coffee very often.) While I was pouring the water for his tea, I knocked over the French press spilling the coffee everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE.
I flew into a rage. I started crying out of despair and anger. There were coffee grounds in my lower cabinets and inside the drawers. There was brewed coffee all over the kitchen floor and under the fridge. Ben called from the bedroom, “What happened?” For some reason, this sent me even further into the rage tunnel. I was seeing red.
I brought him the hot tea that I had made him, because that was still sitting untouched on the counter. I still wanted to do that initial nice thing that had started it all, but inside I was seething. You could feel the tension. I went back into the kitchen to start cleaning up the mess. (I still haven’t had any coffee, mind you.) At this point, Ben walked into the kitchen to see what all had occurred.
Ben had literally just woken up, and I was having an emotional breakdown. I was screaming at him to help me (which I had never actually asked him to do), and I was sobbing out of frustration. He looked at me, and just walked back into the bedroom with his hot tea.
I began scooping up on the grounds to put into the compost bin outside. As I went to go walk down the stairs, I slipped on a piece of ice. My feet went flying up in the air. I threw the compost bucket into the air. And I bounced down the four steps. In a split second I was on my ass, covered in coffee grounds, and uncontrollably crying.
I scraped myself up off the ground, and carefully avoiding the icy patch, I got myself back inside the house. Ben was there with open arms, asking me to sit down and tell him what had happened.
Have you ever been around a child when they are upset? and when you try to ask them what is the matter, they can’t even form sentences? That’s what I felt like. Once I calmed down, I apologized to Ben for yelling at him. Ben helped me clean up the coffee grounds that were covering me from head-to-toe. There was also a pretty gnarly bruise starting to form on my left buttcheek.
I took a Xanax. I laid down on the couch with a book, and that is where I spent the rest of the day. I was done.
Coffee Is Hard.
Why does something so dramatic have to happen to me for me to pay attention? What signals or signs from the Universe have I been missing? Am I really not paying close enough attention?
The following week, I went into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of French press coffee. I put a pot of water on the stove, just like before. I ground the beans, just like before. Except why are the grounds shooting out of the coffee grinder. Shit! Apparently you have to remember to put the lid on the grinder. I got coffee grounds everywhere. At least it wasn’t wet this time.
I hear Ben call out “What happened?” from the bedroom, just like before. Is this Groundhog Day? Is the Universe trying to test me? I started laughing. I made Ben some tea (I had extra water, just like before.), and I took it to him in bed and told him what had happened. I then went back into the kitchen, swept up the coffee grounds, and started over. This time, unlike last time, I didn’t freak out. I stayed calm. Did I pass the test, Universe?
Emotional Intelligence
I am fully aware the I was being ridiculous. I know that rage was too intense of an emotion necessary for that particular situation. However, I have a problem with emotional regulation. (See more about that on this post.) I also learned that day that I need to listen to myself more and SLOW THE FUCK DOWN.
Emotional intelligence involves learning how to properly deal with your emotions. I use DBT to learn this skill. (I briefly spoke about this on this post.) But more specifically, I use the concept of “Fit the Facts” from Marsha Linehan.
One question in particular I have grown fond of is, “Does my emotion and/or its intensity fit the actual facts?” If not, then I want to do the opposite of what the emotion is telling me to do. In the case of anger, which would tell me to attack, the opposite would be to take a deep breath and be kind.
That is exactly what I did the second time around. I took a deep breath and laughed at myself. Ben and I talked about it before I started writing this post, and we both laughed about it.
Allow yourself to feel your emotions before they feel you.
Jenna Yolton
I am in the process of learning how to let myself feel the emotions without having the emotions control me. To be more specific, I am learning how to regulate my emotions because I have been stuffing them down my entire life hoping that they would go away. Guess what? They didn’t, and they won’t. I’ve been doing it wrong my whole life. This may take a while. The important thing is that I am willing to put in the work, and I am willing to put in the work for myself.
XOXO – Jenna
