Dysfunctional is the new functional

Growing up, I was pretty sure that my family was abnormal. I have read the books, and know for a fact that I fall into the dysfunctional category. Denial is pointless. The truth is that even the ones who seemed to have perfect functioning families were only illusionist. They knew how to put on an amazing performance. Those in my family are not entertainers, they are the real thing.

When I was a teenager, a friend encouraged me to go through counseling. She said, “You don’t know how dysfunctional you are until you see a counselor.” For some odd reason, that didn’t sound appealing. I did understand I had some issues, but counseling would not have changed the family I was born into.

What are some characteristics of the dysfunctional person? You’re impatient, you judge yourself and others harshly, you fear failure, sabotage your own success, have low self-esteem, are afraid to trust and unable to let go, play or have fun. You take yourself very seriously, you’re a perfectionist and crave validation from others. As you know by now, these are some of my strongest qualities.

So, to stereotype, I am dysfunctional! My family is dysfunctional! You would see our photos on the recall list at Wal-Mart if it were a possibility. We have impaired function, but we have adapted. As the body will compensate in times of injury, so has my family.

What they lack, they will make for up in other areas. They are far from perfect, but I now realize they are normal. They are just like 99.9% of all other families. There still may be a handful who fall into the “functional” category, but I have never met them. So if you have been given the “dysfunctional” label, pat yourself on the back. It’s a big accomplishment. If you haven’t, you are either a small minority or are in complete denial.

It’s okay to feel sad

Some days I wake up sad and go to bed sad. It usually starts with something simple that spirals into deep, dark, overwhelming sorrow. This is not the norm for me. I’m not talking about depression or lifelong sadness. I am talking about weepy, emotionally fragile, cry in my coffee, stay in my pajamas all day and feel sorry for myself sadness. Some people would prefer you never to be sad. I am one of those. I HATE to see those I love sad. My husband battled with a heavy heart a few years ago, and it drove me crazy that I could not make him feel better. I took it personally. Sometimes, though, sadness is the only way to feel happiness. If we are truly sad and keep burying those feelings deeper and deeper, we will eventually lose track of them. Yet they will still exist, just waiting to be accidentally discovered at the most inopportune time.

I have found this to be especially true with my children. There are days when one of them will seem out of sorts. They are weepy, sullen and sad. It’s easy to tell them to “get over it,” but that only prolongs the problem. Even though it breaks my heart, I let them be unhappy. We talk about it and, yes, we usually have a good cry. And after a good night’s sleep, they manage to find their joyful spirit again.

So I have realized that, on the days when I am at my lowest, I must embrace my sadness instead of ignoring it. It’s amazing how our cells seem to remember what we try to forget. A smell, a song, a sound or a memory will bring the waves of anguish flooding in. So instead of running up the shoreline, I jump in and get wet. I feel worse for the time being, but once the sadness passes I feel refreshingly lighter.

It’s okay to have a gloomy day of sorrow. So when they come, don’t panic, and warn those around you that you are having a well-deserved “sad day.” Take some time for yourself and face whatever you’re feeling head-on. Cry, wail and weep. Then get a good night’s sleep, and hopefully by the morning you’ll find your joy again.