Unsafe Containers


I have three blogs, one photo and two writing blogs. This is a good thing because as I make comments important to me, I am also involving myself in various blogging challenges. Since I have posted on the other blogs today, I’ll use this one for the daily prompt post.

Unsafe containers deals with the concept of which emotion or emotions are the hardest for me to contain.  And it is an interesting question on a number of levels.

As a social worker involved in abuse investigations I learned to develop a poker face. I didn’t respond negatively or anger-is-an-acid-that-can-do-more-harm-to-the-vessel-anger-quotepositively to the stories of others. To encourage or discourage was to influence the report or indicate something should not be discussed. I learned to compartmentalize like nobody’s business. I could not afford to allow emotion to affect my ability to work in the protective services field and I could not lose my cool in a situation where everyone except the cops and me were out of control. As a legal professional I find letting others lose their cool while I keep mine works quite well.

As someone with a hearing problem I also want to make sure the comment made that I could consider inappropriate or insulting was really what was said. I’ve learned to listen closely and clarify what I think I heard before responding. This makes me less likely to respond with any sort of emotional reaction – from joy to anger – because I need to make sure I’ve got the right understanding before I get on my behavioral horse and ride.

Can I lose my cool? Sometimes. With some people. In some situations. Start abusing someone weaker and more vulnerable around me and I’m likely to be a first responder. In fact, I recently ordered a set of kubatons for my key rings because I lost the old one. I want to practice with one of my martial arts friends again. They are of no use if I can’t use them correctly. And yes, I’d use a kubaton on an abuser without a moment’s hesitation.

Recently I was in a bizarre situation with someone who used to be a close friend who began figuratively jumping up and Entitlementdown in full victim mode, extreme entitlement mode, and greed mode. I didn’t get sad, or angry, or rude. I just said “No” and walked away. Everyone there (three men – one a friend of the other person) told me, “I don’t understand your patience with that person.” I’m still not angry over it, but I now have the answer to the repeated question of  “Why don’t I have any friends?” No, I’m not going to address it because it would not do any good.  If anything, I pity that individual as a lost cause.

Do I ever get angry? Now and then. I become infuriated by injustice. I am irritated beyond belief at many of the comments in the #NotAllMen thread on Twitter and participate in the #YesAllWomen thread because I’m sick and tired of rape culture in America. I remember coming back from Uni in Australia and being traumatized by the violence here for a good six months. I sometimes #yesallwomenvent about the fact medical providers and other professionals don’t treat the disabled (physical, emotional, mental, visual, hearing) appropriately. However, instead of screaming at someone I merely go into advocate mode and get exceptionally assertive.

If anything, I am too quiet at times. I’m an introvert. I’m hard of hearing. I am an observer rather than a participant unless my participant is needed.  So I’m not sure I’ve got an unsafe container lying around. A few people relate to that as my being “wise” to which I respond “Never confuse wisdom with mileage.” I’ve got lots of mileage – more than most – in my almost 65 years on this planet.

It is possible I sent all my unsafe containers to recycling.

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