Getting Comfortable With Being Uncomfortable - Rosella Reinwand-Crooks

This wasn’t easy for me to write. Partly because I am an intensely private person, and partly because it’s difficult for me to organize and articulate my thoughts. My words feel clumsy and inadequate. However, I’ve been working a lot lately on getting comfortable with being uncomfortable, and I also know that I have to start somewhere. So that’s what this is-- me embracing my discomfort and a new beginning. To anyone who might read this, thank you for being a part of it.

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This is something I wrote in my journal this afternoon:

I am not okay. I haven’t felt like this in months. How am I not prepared? How did I think I was making progress? How did I think this was manageable? It is not manageable. It is unbearable. I can’t do this. It’s too much. It isn’t fair. How did this happen? I was fine this morning. Why do I feel like this now?

I am angry. I should’ve seen this coming, and I’m angry with myself that I didn’t. I’m angry I wasn’t more proactive. I’m angry that I don’t have the support I need, and I’m angry that I have to deal with this at all. I am so angry.

I’m sad. My chest is heavy with the weight. I’m overwhelmed. I am sad for all the years I’ve lost. I’m sad for my kids.. I’m surprised and I’m scared by how quickly this sadness has swallowed me, and by how completely. I know there was a time when I didn’t feel this way, but I don’t remember it now.

More than anything, I am lonely. The feeling is so intense, it feels like my body will not be able to contain it. It’s screaming inside of me, trying to escape, desperate to be released. It is all I can feel.

It is too much. It is all too much. I thought I was okay, but I’m not okay. I can’t do this. How did this sneak up on me? I was okay this morning, wasn’t I? What happened? I need this to stop. How can I make it stop? I didn’t remember that it’s like this when it gets bad. How did I forget? What am I going to do?

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There was a time when an experience like that would have been debilitating. Unable to deal with the intensity of my thoughts and my emotions, I would have tried to numb them. I would have retreated to the safety of my room and hidden away in my bed. I would have shut out everything until the feelings went away. It might have taken the rest of the day, it might have taken two or three days or even a week. Or longer. There have been winters where I have barely left my bed. Thankfully, today wasn’t like that.

Today I was able to recognize that my feelings were overwhelming me and identify the desire to shut down. I chose instead to leave my house so that I couldn’t give in to the need to numb. I went to the lake to ease my distress and ground myself. I wrote in my journal, observing and recording my thoughts and feelings. Today when my thoughts and emotions had me convinced that I wasn’t going to survive, I understood that thoughts and emotions aren’t reality.

Today was different because I’m putting in the work. Today was different because I make myself meditate even when I really don’t want to. It was different because of the weekly DBT group I attend. It was different because I choose to go to yoga every Monday night and because of the countless books I’ve read. Today was different because I’m learning discipline and mindfulness and patience and self-compassion. Today was different because I am making progress. I am making progress, and I am so grateful.

- Rosella Reinwand-Crooks

About Rosella: I was diagnosed with bipolar II and bpd in 2017 when I was 36 years old. The diagnoses made sense of so much of my life. Then I began to learn about trauma and its impact on mental health. In 2018, I was diagnosed with inattentive-type ADHD, and the final piece fell into place.