The angst-ridden professional finally is successful. The money, the awards, even the babes start coming his way. So, of course, he arrives at his shrink's office bent over like a pretzel. His back went out because, no way, can he handle good things happening.
I was the female version of that last week. After struggling for 11 years (my business had gone kaput in 2003), financially things came together. My objective is buying a tiny getaway, somewhere between Tucson, Arizona and San Diego, California.
I had and have enough work for a long enough period to be financially solvent. I have way more than enough money.
Finally, I also got the hang of how to bring new people into my life. After catastrophe, yes, develop new friendships. The old friends just can't handle the reversal and how that is changing you.
And, I am all grown up, that is, I know how to manage anger. I really have gotten it that the emotion per se only endures 90 seconds. Any longer than that indicates that we are nursing it. No. I have given up nurturing rage.
So, I crawled into my support group last night. I dumped how awful I felt. My voice went up a few decibels when I explained how, no way, I could handle good things happening to an average jane.
Then that was it. I slept well. Woke up and coped with the pile on of email from New York (3 hours ahead of Arizona) with even more assignments.