Asleep at the wheel

The sleepy fall weather we’re having here in Austin has got me thinking about all sorts of comforts that go along with the season.  For some reason, I’m thinking of hibernation specifically—and how we sometimes go into a kind of hibernation ourselves sometimes when things get tough.

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How do you handle hardship? 

When faced with relationship troubles or other life stresses, do you tackle things head on and seek immediate solutions?  Or, do you retreat and wait for things to blow over?  Maybe you do your best to smooth things over right away with comfort, distractions, and apologies.

If you’re like most people, you probably do a little bit of each of these, depending on the circumstances and your energy level.

But would you believe me if I told you that sometimes, when things get really stressful, we go to sleep?

This is true both literally and figuratively.  Sometimes we snag a quick nap or just veto an awful day by declaring an early bedtime.  But sometimes we check out, disconnect or otherwise numb ourselves to deal with a stressful situation.

After months or years of hitting what feel like dead ends—the same fights with the same people, the heaviness of the same old feelings of shame or sadness—things go underground.  We stuff feelings.  We go unconscious, on a sort of auto-pilot, and trust that when we come up for air again, things will be better.  We stop caring about things.  We stop investing in our lives.

We hunker down, hold on, and wait for the storm to pass.

In some cases, this can be a beautiful way of coping.  If we are in a time of deep but short-lived stress, taking distance and disconnecting a bit can be a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

But if these stresses are prolonged—concerns that need tending to and care—this way of coping can set us back a long ways in the long run.  Because if we’re asleep at the wheel, who is driving for us?  Is it someone we trust?

And if we’re stuck in a bad situation that’s going nowhere, there’s no “sleeping through” the bad parts.  The trouble will be there, waiting for us, when we wake up.

Sometimes people tell me that they feel they’ve “woken up” to a life they don’t recognize.  It can be a hardship all its own to lay claim to a life that feels partway abandoned, or occupied by relationships, careers, or hobbies you don’t recognize (or don’t want to recognize.)

So if you’re feeling “sleepy” about a part of your life—a relationship, a job, a piece of your past, ask yourself:

 “Will this be better in three months?” 

If the answer is no, that’s a sign that you should forgo the nap and take action instead.