I have a lot of feelings. And I mean, A LOT. Recently it was brought to my attention that the overwhelmingly emotional side to my personality may be prohibiting a real relationship from forming.
Emotion is good, of course. In fact it is absolutely essential to maintaining a healthy relationship of any sort. Everybody has feelings, and they should embrace them; love them; use them to their advantage. HOWEVER, there is nothing nastier than misplaced emotions.
I seem to fluctuate rapidly between two emotionally inappropriate reactions in any given situation: I either lose my mind and get all crazy (hysterical tears, cursing, hyperventilating, making a high-pitched wheezing noise…) or I shutdown entirely. Neither of these are ideal, but I think they both speak to the fact that there is just WAY too much going on emotion-wise inside my head. I either let all these emotions out at the same time, as mentioned in the former, OR I don’t let them out at all. I let them marinate, a strategy that I strongly don’t recommend.
To give a recent example of my total lack of emotional IQ, I had to kill a bee yesterday. And it was one of the worst experiences of my life.
Pretty dramatic, I know… But if ya’ll had been there you would understand. It was HORRIFIC. I was yelling, crying, and just carrying on in general like an absolute lunatic. I’m pretty sure my roomates (aka the family dogs) thought I’d lost my mind.
I was whacking it, and whacking it, with the flyswatter, and the little bastard just REFUSED to die. So, not only am I emotionally distraught over having to murder another living thing, but that’s now compounded with the fact that I’m forcing said living thing to suffer.
And suffer it did.
This happened 4 days ago, and I am still mentally disturbed by it. Which isn’t particularly healthy, nor is it all that normal… But it is just how I am wired. I love all living things, animals in particular (I may even like most animals more than I like most people, to be truthful).
But, obviously, I overreacted. A bug is a bug, and I had to kill it so it wouldn’t sting my dogs when they tried to eat it. The end, book closed, the party’s over. This overreaction, and the many before it, have probably been contributing factors to my lack of a boyfriend.
No one wants to date an emotional headcase.
The fact that I am excitable, melodramatic, impassioned at times and prone to hysterics might be why I am single.
So, maybe if I can keep the manic attacks to a minimum I’ll increase my chances of attracting a worthwhile member of the opposite sex to hold my hand in public, and be sweet to me.
I’m tearing up just thinking about it.