Hope for the Best, Prepare for the Worst
When best-laid plans go awry
This past week my long-awaited, meticulously planned journey crashed and burned. Taking ten days of respite in the beautiful natural surroundings of Nova Scotia to recalibrate from facilitating therapy for complex trauma survivors, was obliterated by the flu. This trip couldn’t come soon enough and the unanticipated demise of a much-needed vacation and the advent of using time off to recover from a grueling virus hit me like a ton of bricks. On top of that, oral surgery is scheduled the week prior to returning to therapy sessions.
As infantile as it may seem, especially given the tragedies plaguing the globe, domestic collapse and the apocalyptic advancement towards WW3, I had a meltdown. Despite it not escaping me that in the grand scheme of things my predicament is radically insignificant, nihilistic thoughts, reminiscent of decades of surviving complex trauma, were sparked.
Indeed, vestiges of loss coupled with chaotic helplessness infiltrated my psyche. I felt forsaken by life and succumbed to the primitive defense of black-and-white thinking. To be specific, splitting had me polarized in deep-seated cynicism and the conviction that life was working against me. This skewed frame of mind signaled a disconcerting lapse into a regressive state.
