We all know it. I don’t care if you’re male or female – you’ve encountered the frustration cry. It’s close relatives are “The Nothing Fight” and the “Nobody Loves Me” pity party. It confuses boys into thinking they’ve done something wrong, or worse, that they can do anything to fix it. And it’s really only temporary relief from a problem that you find so unsolvable, that your only solution is to sit on the floor and sob.
The other night, I could feel it welling up. A pin prick outlet that would slowly leak my irritations until it stretched and stretched to reveal my latest frustration cry. I recognized the signs – I’ve been a little moody lately and grumpy with no real cause. My motivation took a nose dive into Neverland and has yet to return. Even sleep has been somewhat elusive – and I am known for falling asleep at an impressive speed.
I was even conscious enough to give Russ fair warning about the potential for a meltdown in the near future. But, despite my awareness, that creepy little pin prick opened wide up and caught even me off guard.
Here’s a little background: I recently upgraded to an iPhone but I’m pretty skittish with new technology. I refuse to set up bluetooth in my car because I don’t want my phone calls on surround sound when I drive (what if there’s someone else in the car that doesn’t need to hear the entire conversation? Do I just reject the incoming call? That seems rude. But then everyone is always listening to everything you say on the phone. It’s weird, okay?). I have no idea what the iCloud is, let alone how to sync the 5 apple products we have in our house. I deposited a check through the ATM the other day…for the first time EVER.
I like having control over my personal situations.
For some reason, I could not get this thing off my iPhone calendar that I had originally scheduled on my Gmail calendar (damn you sync!). I had deleted it from my Gmail calendar and it still showed up on the phone – re-ocurring on every Wednesday for the rest of my life with no way of deleting it. You can imagine, based on my love of controlled order, that this drove me nuts.
So, the other night, I mention it to Russ and in less than 20 seconds (not an exaggeration), he has accessed the inner bowels of my iPhone with his technological witchcraft. Before I could even say, “I’m going to be so irritated if you figure this out,” my Wednesday evening calendar is clear. Magic. He’s amazing, I know. But you know what doesn’t feel amazing? That I’ve spent MONTHS staring at my iPhone trying to clear my Goddamn Wednesdays and couldn’t figure it out. Like an idiot.
Let the “Frustration Nothing Fight Pity Party” commence!
I immediately flung the phone and flopped face first into the couch. Once I lost control over the tears, I just started being really really hard on myself. I was too stupid for technology. I didn’t know anything about anything. I wasn’t contributing to society. I was lazy and ugly and couldn’t even control my own emotions!
Woah. That escalated quickly. And what ridiculous things to say! I know lots of stuff about tons of things and I’m pretty sure emotions are impossible to control by their very nature. And I also don’t think I’m terrible to look at…And that’s the thing about frustration cries, or nothing fights, or pity parties – they’re almost never about the tiny little thing that triggered them.
I’m relieved that I don’t have to be mocked by the calendar appointment for the 6:00 yoga class on Wednesday nights that I never make it to anymore. And in my eyes, Russ will always have magical powers for knowing what to do with technology. And I’m also happy to have had that moment of emotional meltdown to learn from. Believe me, I will have many more frustration cries (sometimes it just feels good when there’s nothing else you can do about a situation), but I’ll know better than to beat myself up for it.
So, not that you needed it, but here’s my permission to cry it out, fight it out, whatever! Just take at least a quick peak backwards and try to figure out why. Who knows? Maybe it will revitalize your motivation too.