Beyond disappointment in a life that’s not fair

Collecting the weekly shopping for our household having picked up our son from school, a couple of things happened that were disappointing for him.  He wanted Lego.  He hadn’t received any in ages.

“Dad, it’s either a yes or a no,” he said, expecting a yes.  “No,” I said.  At that moment, I seriously wondered what his response would be.  The sky didn’t fall in.  He just sat there and pondered for a moment in the backseat, clearly disappointed.

We arrived at the shops, got the things we needed, and on the way out there was this little toy for what we thought was $2.50.  “Okay, you can grab it,” I said.  We went through the checkout and the ‘toy’ rung up at $10.50.  I said to my son, “That’s $10.50, so I don’t think we can get it this time.”  He dutifully put it back, but he couldn’t hide his disappointment as he quietly put his face between my arm and chest.  I sympathised with comfort to hide him there.

He was quiet on the way home.  I said from the driver’s seat, “You did well to accept two disappointments.”  He put his head in his knees.  I stopped talking.  It was time to be quiet.

~

I’ve been pondering the concept of disappointment for the last few months.  My disappointments, I must concede, usually revolve around my purpose, and my purpose revolves around my vocation, my work, my employment contribution to society.  Many people would give a lot to have had some of the jobs, roles, opportunities and positions I’ve had, but I still feel I’m not quite where I want to be or feel called to be.  As U2 sing it, I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.

This, for me, is as Paul said it in 2 Corinthians 12:7-9, “... in order to keep me from becoming proud, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.  Three times I pleaded with him to take it away from me.  But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in [your] weakness’.”

Disappointment, however it’s framed, is a thorn in our flesh — it either crushes us because we despise and must deny or rail against that weakness, or we embrace the weakness and draw incredible, paradoxical strength.  The strength, however, is a moment-by-moment strength, and only available when we accept our lot however hard it is.

~

We all HATE to be disappointed, and the more well-off we are, the more used to getting our own way we are, the more disappointment hits hard.

But if we can learn to accept disappointment — perhaps it’s because, “God’s got something better for me,” or “It’s meant to be, for some reason unknown to me” — the most satisfied and content we become.

The most prized possession on earth as it is in heaven is character, yet the world, and all of us as our default, shun character, because character is unearthed in bitter disappointment, in loss, in pain that we must learn to accept.

If pain or loss or disappointment cannot get us down, if we refuse to give up when we don’t get our own way, when we can smile in our lonely being, nothing can defeat us.

This is the true Christian virtue: to be satisfied with nothing, to feel like we deserve nothing, to be entirely happy with our lot at any given point in time.

This is exactly the heart intent behind Paul’s words in Philippians 4:12, where he says he is content in both plenty and in want.

Christians are at a very great advantage in living the unfair life.  Our Bibles remind us that this is the way life’s always been.  If we accept it, we proper victoriously.

Sometimes, and this isn’t a rare thing, some of the best things are birthed right out of disappointment.  It’s as if it’s a test for our hearts.  If we meet the disappointment without having a tantrum, without suffering a negative attitude, without giving up or giving in, and are able to continue walking with our head held high and a smile on our dial, right around the corner at times is an unexpected blessing.

But, of course, we don’t do it for that do we?  We cannot bargain and hope to have the right to life on our terms, because that’s exactly the attitude that got us into trouble in the first place.

But it is a fact of life, that some of the best surprises come out of just having been disappointed, and despite all this, we responded well.

Photo by Trần Toàn on Unsplash

12 examples of dangerous and damaging emotional abuse

Examples of emotional abuse involve patterns of behaviour that include:

1.              ridiculing another person about when and how they express their emotions

People who do this are threatened in that they cannot control your behaviour.  When you’re “emotional” the fact of their lack of control over you is more than they can bear.  Where it’s safe to do so, kindly resist the ridicule by saying that it is inappropriate, rude and disrespectful.

2.             judging someone as being weak or inferior for being “too emotional”

This highlights a faulty belief system in the person doing the judging.  They probably won’t be or can’t be talked around.  People like this, especially in leadership, are dangerous.  If they’re a family member or marriage partner they’re saying they’re superior to you.  Nothing could be further from the truth.

3.             accusing someone of being in denial when they “don’t show enough emotion”

This is an opposite kind of emotional abuse.  It requires a person to be emotional when many people are more cognitive about situations, and that’s not fair, because there are many people who are just more cerebral about conflict.  It could actually be considered a strength.

4.             manipulating situations to cause an emotional reaction in someone

This is a really dark kind of behavioural pattern.  This is the effect that gaslighters are trying to achieve.  It is covert and deviant.  People who do this as a pattern are beyond help.  When this is done, the person needs to be called to account for their behaviour, but then watch them wriggle out of it or attack you.

5.             talking in ways or creating culture that discourages the expression of emotion

The word dictatorship comes to mind.  Stifling emotional expression will always backfire on a leader, but it will burn a lot of people first.  Marriage partners who cannot express their emotions may quickly develop anxiety disorders as a result.  Their bodies act out what is going on within.

6.             refusing to listen to someone when they’re emotional

This is either a safety measure or a control measure.  When it’s done for safety, there’s a genuine fear for harm, and that’s not abusive.  But when it’s done to control someone, saying they’re “emotional” is one way to deny them a hearing.

7.             calling someone names when they get emotional, especially names linked with the emotion they’re showing

This is flat out cruel.  It shows not only cruelty in the abuser, but it shows their lack of regard for empathy, and may reveal their acute lack of ability to transact with their own feelings.  At best, this is a lack of control and a lack of ability to control.  At worst, again, it’s just plain cruel.

8.             telling someone they’re not allowed to show their emotions, or worse, punishing them when they do

This is remarkably common in families and it is possibly the most visible emotional abuse.  Fathers and mothers do this, as do spouses, mainly husbands (but rarely a wife will oppress a husband in this).

9.             punishing a person by withdrawing emotional support when they need it, and they could reasonably expect it (parent and child, for instance)

This is emotional abuse through neglect, which is a cruel form of abuse.  It is the withdrawal of all care and compassion.  It says, “You’re invisible to me!”  When this happens to you, know that you do matter and that you do deserve regard.

10.          making people feel guilty that they’re not enough or not doing enough

This abuse is a mirror!  What someone is really saying when they say someone is not enough is, they themselves feel they’re not enough.  It’s a boomerang effect.  It’s horrid when you know that no matter what you do it won’t be enough.

11.           telling people they’re wrong for making “everything about your emotions”

This is a polarisation that pushes people to the extremes.  It’s another control technique, probably brought out when the perpetrator feels least adequate and most out of control.  It is said to exasperate the victim.

12.          making people feel guilty or ashamed for feeling the way they feel

This can both be subtle or overt, and the subtler they do it, the more malevolent their purpose.  This is a way of blackmailing someone into doing what they want them to do.  It is emotional and mind control.  It is an erosion of the soul of a person.

Photo by Dev Asangbam on Unsplash

Loss changes life permanently, the key is grabbing the upside

What I’m about to write I would never say in a conversation.  It comes out too clichéd.  From a counselling viewpoint, it might be part of a long dialogue.  But through the written word, I can just say it plainly.

Whilst loss changes our lives permanently, which is why it’s so dreadfully terrifying, we prosper only when we hold to a hope that there WILL be a compensation of meaning for what it costs us.

There is only a limited audience for this kind of article — those who have genuinely lost almost everything, or those who have had a loss so vast to their person it has wrought deconstruction of their identity.

For me it was 2003-2004 when this occurred.  In many ways, those losses still haven’t been recovered.  I’ve been rerailed on a different track.  Losing one’s family as it was is the kind of blow that can never be resolved.  But, of course, humans resolve the irreconcilable through accepting a different way isn’t necessarily the end of hope.

The solution for me in reconciling my confounding situation of loss was I sold my soul to God.  Simple as that.  I genuinely gave my will and my life over to God, very much as a leading from AA (taking the Twelve Step program seriously).  I attended 159 AA meetings in eleven months, immersed myself in the program and culture, and was led by their sponsors (mentors).

Loss broke me so much I felt I had no choice but to completely chuck the old life away.

And I think, looking back, I made a wise choice for the main part.  But there’s always part of you that imagines what life might have been like.  That’s a huge part of the loss journey — realising there is always regret, or a ‘what if’, there.

What I’ve learned nearly 20 years on is there are some things you’re better off accepting as early into the journey of grief as you can.  But you have to stay there.

Early days for me, acceptance seemed a gift, hardly any work involved most of the time, except on those seriously backward backsliding days.  Those inevitably came every month or so, and early on much more frequently.

Staying in acceptance hasn’t always been easy, however.  We should never take God’s gift of grace for granted — it’s precious when we’re graced with an acceptance we couldn’t do on our own.

Major loss has the effect of changing our lives permanently, so we really are invited into being open to another life as that emerges.  It often means a complete new set of relationships, new environments, new conversations, new ideas — a complete identity re-fit.

The upside is, no matter how much you miss the life that’s gone, a new life is the opportunity you wouldn’t otherwise have had?  Two lives (or more) for the price of one.

I don’t expect many will get this idea, but for some it will make a great deal of sense.

Photo by Ian Taylor on Unsplash