.
Because it works.
Or seems to.
.
Hey, I’ve learned a lot about control.
Like how important it is to me.
How I like when I have it,
and hate when I don’t.
How this makes me
look for it everywhere,
both when I know that I’m looking
and when I do not.
.
How deep down I still believe
that having control
is the only way
to feel safe emotionally.
.
And how many of my problems come
from this stubborn unconscious belief.
.
Especially problems I have in
relationships,
with other people who hate
being controlled.
.
And problems that come from
overcontrolling my own feelings,
from swallowing or hiding them,
even from myself.
.
How a life based on control-seeking
is ultimately exhausting,
like swimming endlessly
against a strong tide.
.
And how constantly trying
to edit reality
according to my needs and
my preferences
leaves me not powerful but weak.
.
Since whenever I fight reality,
reality always wins.
.
So why do I keep doing it?
.
As I said, because it works.
For a moment, it works.
.
In that moment, it seems to
promise relief.
In that moment, I feel like I’ve
solved something,
found a remedy for discomfort
or pain.
.
I haven’t, of course.
The moment passes.
The discomfort returns.
The sense of control evaporates.
.
Which means I must seek it again.
Just as any addict must,
when the anesthesia wears off.
.
And I’m starting to notice this.
I mean, really notice how brief
the relief is,
and how inevitable is the
pain’s return.
.
I’m beginning to notice the cycle,
and to hear me whisper to myself,
Here we go again.
.
And then to step back and
consider alternatives.
.
Like not controlling people,
but letting them be as they are.
Like not strangling feelings,
but letting them arrive
and depart on their own.
Like not controlling the future
by filling it with plans,
goals and promises,
but letting it simply unfold.
.
All this means, I think, that
I may be approaching
what they call a bottom —
that place of recognition
where you can’t do
what you’ve been doing
for one second more,
where the pain of fixing endlessly
swamps the fear of giving up the fix.
.
I’m not there yet.
But I’m closer.
.
And frankly, I can’t wait
to arrive.
Because after all this controlling
I really could use
a rest.
.
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