Why procrastination feels safer than action
Who would have thought that your fear of opening letters; making phone calls; and other adult things, are actually an expression of loss and grief from your childhood?
When I was scared as a child, my dad got angry and called me names, like sissy or coward. I did not experience reassurance, nor physical support like a hug.
My dad’s body language; his angry face; his tone of voice, all showed his disappointment in me and my brother.
No one ever said: “I’ve got you. I hear you. I can hold you”. The feelings were confusing. I had no one to discuss and explore them with. So, I ended up not only feeling scared, but also lonely, confused, and guilty for not being able to please my dad.
Fast forward to adulthood: People in authority scare me. What if they get angry? I have no skills for setting healthy boundaries. I’m an adult. I should know what to do.
People in a position of authority, stand in place of my father. Life presents me with opportunities to overcome my fears. To meet kind people, helpful people, polite people. And if someone should be rude and impatient, I will experience that it doesn’t matter. I will not be sent to my room without dinner. They will not lose their temper and threaten me with physical violence or even strike me. Deciding to address situations that are difficult and scary, is selfcare. You might have thought it was a bubble bath and a glass of wine.
Experiencing situations that are scary and still dealing with them, is the most supportive and kindest way you can imagine. Making new and better memories, is life’s way of showing you, that you are loved. You’ve got this! You can do this!
Approach the scary task carefully. Don’t shout at yourself. Show patience and understanding. This is not a test. This is real life. This is your healing opportunity.
And it’s ok. If you are too scared to take this one, there are plenty more opportunities to come. Until you learn that your past doesn’t define your future. That you are safe, and loved, and ok, just the way you are. Other people’s reaction to a situation has nothing to do with you, and instead are shaped by their own approach to life, their own experiences, and their own learned skills.
Love yourself for being scared. For trying, and then succeeding. It is tempting to behave like the caregivers in your past, by joining in with the belittling and humiliating for ‘little you’.
Don’t follow that poisonous path. Show yourself compassion for your fears. They are there to show you the areas that still need healing. The areas where you buried your grief.
And because those feelings were so overwhelming when you were little, all you can feel now is fear, resulting in the behaviour of procrastination. Remember how you were. Helpless and dependent. But this has changed now. Who would have thought that your fear of opening letters; making phone calls; and other adult things, are actually an expression of loss and grief from your childhood?
The loss of trust: When you realised, that the only person that could actually help you with your confusing and overwhelming feelings — the person you trusted the most — would turn out to be the one pushing you off the emotional cliff, rather than protecting you from the fall.
You also lost the belief in yourself. The belief that you could overcome difficult situations. Because after they noticed that you are scared, and they laughed at you; belittled you; humiliated and maybe even threatened you, you lost all hope. Not only did you have to deal with your fear about that particular situation, but you now also had to deal with the shame, the guilt, the disappointment, and the verdict not just about your personality, but also about your character as a person. And of course, you didn’t only experience this once. This would go on for years. This was your normal, and how could it be any different?
So, every scary situation points to your failures in the past. A reminder of the pain.
Say, for example, you burned your hand, and someone is telling you: “Put your hand back into the fire.” But your brain starts to panic and shouts: “Are you mad? Avoid! Abort! Abandon!”
It’s like a fire alarm is going off in your head.
And then a friend you trust, stands next to you. They know your story. They have seen the scars. And with the gentlest of voices they say: “Look again. This is not a real fire. It’s only a picture of a fire.”
They pick the picture up from the table, and with a soothing voice, they say: “See, it is safe to touch. You are safe.” and then they hand you the picture. Tears drop onto the picture from your eyes. You can feel the grief, the loss, the fear, and the shame. You start sobbing when you realise, that there was no real fire; but in your panic it seemed so real, and you just couldn’t distinguish between a real fire and a picture of it.
Your friend waits patiently. Your tears ebb away, your breathing becomes deeper and slows down. Your shoulders relax, and you look up. You are met by the kindest eyes, and the sweetest smile, and your friend hugs you and holds you, and you know that you finally found home.
