I assume as a child one is supposed to have learned the most basic of coping skills. I did not. As far back as grade school (early grade school years) I worried and stressed over ever so small details. It was routine for me to be awake at night, anxious because I wasn't sure if I should wear the blue bell bottoms or the yellow pants (it was the 70's...). When I say I was "anxious" about those things, I'm not kidding. I wasn't worrying about which pants people would think were cool, I was really fretting over having to make a decision about something and not being able to do so. I was in a constant state of distress over minute specifics that even a teenager could have cared less about, so coping with anything that was the least bit out of my normal routine was impossible.
Because I didn't learn coping skills as a child, I am now in an agonizing state of constant flutter. My inability to cope with even the tiniest of bumps in the road amazes me, and it has grown worse since I've been unemployed. Let's face it, I've never been a Polly-ana-everything-will-work-out-in-the-end type of person, but I've been reduced to Chicken Little. I've had so many "upsets" in the past few months that I almost feel like I'm putting out little fires everyday, just to keep my head above water and I think I've nearly given up! I had a job offer at the end of last week, then things went awry today, so I don't know if I'm still going to have that job offer. Anyway, it is today's turn of events that started me thinking about my coping skills.
Friday, I posted a great quote from Dr. Suess and it was going to be my new mantra. I was ready to play King-of-the-Mountain with anybody and everybody on Friday, then this setback, and I'm ready to change my mantra back to, "I knew it wouldn't work out!" What gives here Chicken Little? Stop it!
I'm ready to face it: I have no coping skills. When bad things come up now, I have an intense desire to withdraw from the world. Seriously. Someone else can take my place. Any takers?
--Fortuitous Observer (a.k.a Chicken Little, under the table, hands over head)
