day 256: pulverizing
Tonight we were watching a show on machines that pulverize things. I mean these things are called the rock saw, the wood hog, and the tub grinder, and they are the bad boys of the pulverizing scene. 70 million pounds of force when needed and nothing can survive, whether it's trap rock. or marble, or large telephone polls.
Every time I watched the machine smash something I found myself wincing. I realized that just the prospect of being hit that hard was tough to fathom. No warning and then ka-blam. But how many times does the pulverizing just sneak up on us? Deception from a loved one. Job loss. Health problems. What is your strategy for facing the pulverizing?
12 comments
To wait to react until the dust has settled, to asses damage before panicking, to take a deep breath to remind me I'm still alive - trusting that, in the end, it'll all be okay! Then I have a good cry. :)
Unfortunately my strategy tends to vary depending on what time of the month it is. That's all I'm gonna say... :)
C- waiting til the dust settles is critical most times. And the good cry? For sure.
L- So true. Sometimes facing something with my teeth showing is the least appealing thing I can think of, and other times I can't wait! That's all I'M gonna say. :)
I would wince too! Ouch.
That's how I felt when pregnancy complications suddenly hit our family. Having the possibility of loss hanging over our heads for months was a slow but steady pulverizing, and the only way not to give into it was humour for me. I cracked jokes. I smiled. I shrugged. I sang, "Que sera, sera" a lot.
Funnily enough, it was only when people praised me for being brave that the tears began to come. Because I knew I wasn't. That I'd just mastered the art of distracting myself.
Writing helped too. Words make sense out of life for me.
Thought-provoking post, hun!
Being pulverized is a horrible feeling. I walk around in a daze, while my heart and stomach are trying to detach from one another. Then I think of the saying, "Everything will be OK in the end, if it's not OK, it's not the end!"
Wish I could build a shelter around me to take the blows. Doesn't work that way, I guess....
oooooh, good question. My strategy changes, I think. Sometimes I panic, but that's usually when I'm tired and it's usually over stupid things I shouldn't panic over. Little things. It seems the big things don't sway me. I breathe, I pray, I talk it out.
I don't handle sneak attacks well and usually kick and scream while being pulverized, then calm down and make the best of what is left.
Duck and cover. Run away. Laugh at the approaching front. Stand there and stare. It really depends on how many storms I'm facing at once.
Run away and cry. For a long time. Then, when enough people tell me I'm awesome and whoever or whatever did the pulverizing was just mean or horrible (or right, but that comes later) I climb out of my hole and take an anxiety pill and try to do something different to take my mind off the pulverization. Then I finally talk to whoever needs to be talked to, and in my heart say "You really hurt me and I deserve an explanation" but with my mouth say "Oh, please don't give it another thought. Water under the bridge." Then I spend the next month imagining different endings to that conversation, eat peanut butter m&ms for a solid week, and then move on to the next crisis.
It's good to have a system.
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