I'm losing control

Hello, fellow thinker!

I was reminded this week that the reason I get so upset when things don’t go my way, is because I am trying to control everything, but everything is not in my control, so when things don’t happen how I expect, there is no reason to freak out.

Yet, I do anyway.

Life can often overwhelm us, pushing us to the brink until we feel like we have no control left. This is a story of such moments in my life and how I learned to navigate them without turning to alcohol, ultimately embracing resilience and self-care.

There have been several times in my life when everything became too much, and I simply shut down. Whether it was the heartache of a teenage breakup, the anxieties of expecting a second child, or the relentless pressures of work, my reaction was always the same. Overwhelmed, I would retreat into solitude, seeking refuge from the world. As an extrovert, losing control meant my rational thinking paused and my instinct was to curl up and withdraw.

With age, I've grown more familiar with how I handle crises—though this awareness isn't just from experience, but also from a newfound sober clarity. Recently, I discussed life's stresses with a friend, joking that alcohol seemed a good remedy, though it was an option I knew all too well was off the table. My dependence on alcohol started as a coping mechanism for the emotional rollercoaster of a high-stress sales job. As the sole provider for my young family, quitting was never an option. The responsibility to earn and support my loved ones was paramount, and I had to find ways to stay successful amidst seemingly insurmountable challenges.

I recall a poignant moment from my teenage years that deeply influenced me. It was during a financially tough time in the late '90s. After a heated argument, I watched as my mom approached my dad with an offer of reconciliation through a simple hug. As they embraced, my dad momentarily lost control, fainting into my mom's arms. Her shout roused him, and as I ran to him, I saw confusion but also awakening in his eyes. This memory has stayed with me, illustrating the profound impact of emotional support and the physical toll of stress.

This reflection on my father's experience and my own challenges has shaped how I cope with life's overwhelming moments. Now, when I feel like I'm losing it, I might slam my computer shut or storm out of a room. But more often, I choose to walk. Walking for hours helps clear the mental debris from the emotional explosions. Sometimes, it's about sitting in front of the TV, binging shows, and allowing myself to drift in and out of naps—a period of self-pity, but also self-care and prioritization.

During these times, my family becomes my anchor. My children's occasional check-ins and my wife Indira's understanding provide the space and support I need. Their presence helps me recharge and reminds me of my worth beyond my professional successes.

As a competitive person who thrives on leading others to success, I've learned the importance of stepping back when everything spirals out of control. These moments force me to reassess my priorities, realign my goals, and decide how best to move forward. They teach me the power of resilience and the courage to confront and rethink the problems at hand.

Ultimately, this narrative is a testament to the universal experience of losing control and the varied ways we react. Like my father, who momentarily lost physical control, we all have moments of weakness. However, these moments prompt us to redefine our priorities and find the strength to overcome the challenges that overwhelmed us in the first place. We regain control by taking a step back, recalibrating our approach, and forging ahead with renewed determination.

PS: Writing about this stuff helps me think clearly about myself and how I react or respond to things. Do you write? Let me know.

Keep thinking, my friends!

⚠️ Catch up on all my letters here: https://soberthinker.beehiiv.com/