How to get your emotional needs met the Stoid way....

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

I had kind of a bad week, as some of you might have heard.

I was going up and down with it for the first few hours… getting upset, pulling myself out of it, getting upset… then, about 9pm that night, the freight train hit me full blast and I went into Major Meltdown.

I don’t have any problem doing this, the only thing I really need is someone who cares to hear me while I barf it all up in my own inimitable, semi-hysterical way.

So I tried to get one of my good friends on the phone, but no one was home.

I was losing it and losing it and went outside. I looked up and down the street, and though of my neighbors a few houses up, a very sweet and funny couple I’m friendly with who are about my age.

Barely holding myself together, I knocked on the door, and “Joe” answered.

Stoid, a little blubbery: “I know this is weird, but I really need to intrude on your space in what is probably a completely inappropriate way because I’m in a bad way right now. Is Jan home?”

Joe: Sure, of course, come in, are you alright?

Stoid: No, is Jan here? Jan?

Jan, coming out, concerned: Stoid! Are you alright? What’s wrong?

Stoid, blubbery, holding on by a thread…: "Jan, I know this is really strange and I’m really sorry but I’m just losing it right now and honest to god what I really truly need is very literally A SHOULDER TO CRY ON>>>WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!

At which point, Jan held out her arms and let me fall on her shoulder and sob like a child, then led me to the den and listened to me and held my hand, both of them, until I was laughing and crackin’ wise again, about 25 minutes and a glass of water later.
And that is how to get your needs met.

I know, I’m a freak. But I felt WAY better WAY faster than I would have otherwise.

(And I’ve had a few little breakdowns here and there since, don’t mistake me… but one thing I’m really good at is processing my emotions without any kind of restraint, and the payoff is that I get over and through them much more quickly, without lingering damage.)

2

I’m glad that you are successfully processing what’s gone on. I tried to read that thread and understand what you’re going through, but I guess I’m not all that bright because I was LOST. But I did (and do) feel for you and empathize with your frustration and I was thinking about you and hoping that you were doing okay.

3

Thanks much. I appreciate the good thoughts and sympathy. But I wasn’t fishing for it, I’ve just been sharing this story (about me and the neighbors) with friends and being sort of amused and amazed at once.

4

So the other day at work, I had a lady that freaked about the amount of work her car needed.
I went for a test drive with her, then put the car in the air and verified what what was wrong.
I brought her back to the shop, showed her the different items and showed her that only a part of the work had to be done right NOW. We prioritized the balance of the work. I also tossed in a couple of small things at no charge.
She started to cry. She said that it was from relief, and that she was happy.
I asked her if a hug would help.
She fell into my arms and after a bit was much better.
So yeah, shoulders can help.
:slight_smile:

glad you are better Stoid

5

I’m glad taking an emotional risk with someone paid off. Like Alice, I am too stupid to understand what is going on in that thread, but you nonetheless have my deepest condolences for whatever it is you’re suffering right now.

I like both these stories (yours and Rick’s.) It’s good to know there are shoulders out there.

6

I’m glad, too, Stoid. I rarely get up that level of courage–only when things are really, really bad. Most of the time it’s me giving those type of hugs to others. Sometimes even people I barely know [del]want[/del]need them.

7

This thread is proof that people with broad shoulders need to offer them up, more frequently, to those who may need them.

I had a brother commit suicide a couple of years ago. Police officers came to my house to tell me this tragic news. My other siblings are also, largely unstable, and this was sure to hit all their buttons. But I was thinking about other things. Later, the Policeman called me to see if I was okay or needed anything, (SOP after a suicide.), and to inform me he’d just had my sister go completely off on him, long distance, it was ugly.

I apologized and then pointed out there was another brother, who I’d just hung up, on for screaming at me and going off, and who’d promised to call the police officer next. I apologized again, for what I knew he was about to get, undeservedly, more of.

His response was, “You don’t worry about me, okay? I’ve got real broad shoulders, I assure you, I can take it!”

Shoulders? Who knew they’d prove so important?

8

I feel you… a lifelong friend of mine committed suicide a few years ago, and the effect is enormous. Broad shoulders (and forgiving spirits) are definitely needed - death is one thing, suicide is so much more complicated and devastating. I hope you and your family have managed to find peace and forgiveness for yourselves and for your brother, as well as plenty of broad shoulders to cry on and loving arms. If you’re lucky you’ve been able to laugh, too… that’s so important.

The big hurts of life…I don’t think I’ve ever been through one that didn’t have laughter in it, right from the beginning. Maybe I’m just really lucky with my family (both the one I was born into and the one I chose in the form of my dearest friends) in that we’re all able and willing to find the black humor and run with it, right in the middle of what are the darkest hours.

If I could really describe it in writing, I’d share the story of the night my oldest sister died while my mother and my other sisters and I were gathered around her, holding her. It was sad, and solemn, and loving, and large, and yes, funny. There were funny things that we laughed about then and we laugh about now, but they’re really difficult to convey without being able to do facial expressions and demonstrations.

And to bring it back around… the day my friend killed himself, I was the first person on the scene after his wife and his sister, who called me, and they were wrecks, of course. I was their strength that day.* But we were laughing at something or other within the first couple of hours. Of course, it was basically through tears.

Something we laugh about to this day is the fact that I rushed out of the house and before I left I gathered up the only Valium I could lay my hands on in case my friends needed it. But the only Valium I could lay my hands on was the leftover syringes of liquid valium I had remaining from my epileptic dog Tucker’s supply. (Tucker had died suddenly and horribly at age 5 a few months before… and a few months before that my mother died… If I believed in God I’d really have to wonder what the hell I did to piss him off so badly…) They were for rectal application, but that isn’t obvious from looking at them briefly, they just look like syringes.

So I throw the syringes in my purse, rush to the Hollywood Hills and the police come to me immediately because the other two are a mess, they want to tell me whatever. I get out of the car and drop my purse and all these fat syringes full of liquid schedule 2 drugs (I think Valium is controlled, isn’t it?) fall quite literally at the feet of the cops.:eek:

Smooth move, Stoid.:cool:
To this day I cannot explain exactly why, before i had a chance to tell them what they were, neither cop even blinked. I would almost swear that both of them looked right at the syringes and instantly turned their eyes skyward. Which I thought was pretty cool of them.

*(Which, for those who follow the Saga of Stoid, was the day I had set aside right before the first trial to spend putting together my thousand-plus page evidence book… it was going to be an all day project for the trial happening I think a week or two later. I get the call that morning and of course have absolutely no choice but to drop everything instantly and rush to my friends’ sides. Late that day I had to rush over to another friends’ with hastily tossed together piles of paper, slam them through his high speed scanner, and work from those PDFS to generate 4 evidence books. If you think this is just a meaningless aside, it is, but it’s kind of interesting since I think those evidence books might have been the beginning of the judge deciding she didn’t like me when my first day on the stand the trial was brought to a complete halt for half an hour due to the screwed up nature of the paper in the books and being printed on both sides…she was pissed, as was my attorney. Not a good beginning! Hey, sorry, I was dealing with my firend’s suicide and I didn’t do a great job making sure every single page of every bank statement printed perfectly!)

9

How do you gather up all the Valium you can lay your hands on? Like…isn’t it (usually, dog issues aside) something you either have or you don’t? And do people really just accept Valium that people give them when they’re sad? Not being snarky–I’m genuinely not familiar with this kind of attitude towards medicine.

10

Well, I would have thought the reference to the Hollywood Hills would have answered that question. :smiley:

I am part of a self-medicating generation. And it wasn’t about being “sad”, it was about being emotionally trashed, which I expected his wife and sister to be. And after you’ve been hysterical for a while, you might need a little help calming down.

Hey, I was just trying to be helpful.

11

I’d rather you just given them alcohol. Same mechanism of action, less problems legally.

12

Stoid, not all that many people can be so honest with others (or with themselves!) about what they really need. You’re no freak! I just wanted to let you know that I thought your story was pretty awesome. :slight_smile:

13

That was brave of you Stoid. I might have wanted to do what you did, but I would have been too afraid. Afraid of what to say if I met the neighbours again some days later. I mean, after a cry like that, you either become friends or the distantly polite neighbour thing becomes…awkward, you know?

I’m chicken, so in your case I would have called one of those volunteer dial-a-shoulder telephone lines. Do those even still exist?

14

Their laughter was very much the sound of relief.
You rob yourself of so much richness in this life if you let yourself be run by fear of what people might think of you, Maastricht, truly. Our lives are too short and precious, and I promise you I know for sure that when you get to the end of yours you will find you regret the times you did not knock on your neighbor’s door asking for some compassion and human touch, not the times you did. (Depending on your definition of “compassion and human touch”, of course. ARF.)

15

Well, thanky! I am certainly a very flawed human being, but I am very honest with myself and others, and I am very comfortable with my emotions and dealing with them. And I don’t really have any responsibility for either of those things, they were both part of my factory-installed feature set.

Oh, I’m really good at that stuff… I knew they would probably be more uncomfortable about it afterwards, assuming I would feel like you imagine you would feel. So yesterday, when I was making nutmeg cake for a BBQ I was invited to, I made a small one for them and took it over. (I’ve been sharing my baked goods with them and other neighbors for awhile now. I make it for myself, but to stop myself from eating it all I share most of it with others.) They came to the door and I could see on their faces that they weren’t really sure, so I made it easy for them and joked about it, telling them that I’d been telling everyone how I freaked out my neighbors. So I did two things: I was letting them know I was not embarrassed or uncomfortable with them about it, AND I’m not uncomfortable or embarrassed about it with anyone else, either. Their laughter was very much the sound of relief.
You rob yourself of so much richness in this life if you let yourself be run by fear of what people might think of you, Maastricht, truly. Our lives are too short and precious, and I promise you I know for sure that when you get to the end of yours you will find you regret the times you did not knock on your neighbor’s door asking for some compassion and human touch, not the times you did. (Depending on your definition of “compassion and human touch”, of course. ARF.)

16

My sister is a bit like you, Stoid, in that she’s confident enough to go up to someone and ask for help if she needs it.

Not quite the same, but I think every one of my parent’s neighbours have, at one time or another, opened my sister’s medicine bottles when no one else was home and her arthritis and pain prevented her from popping off the damn child-proof caps. They now come in easier to open bottles, but for a time, she simply dumped them into Ziploc bags to save her neighbours the trouble!

She’s also called on neighbours or various teachers (all friends of my mom) to help her out when she needed it. Everything from a ride in the middle of the night to pharmacy runs to just talking things out.

I’ve been fortunate that I either haven’t been in such a situation myself, or that I was able to reach a friend or family member in the times when I needed it.

17

I’m sorry about your friend but glad you got to your neighbors. Finding a suicide is something I hope I never have to experience. Just hearing about one shakes me up. I hope you get some closure soon.

18

Yes they do. I don’t know what they’d be called in Holland but they will be there, without judgment, anytime they’re needed.

Glad you could ask for and get the support you needed, Stoid, hope things stay on the up.