Letting It Go Only Defers the Feelings

Whenever I hear Elsa (Idina Menzel) from Frozen singing the song “Let It Go,” I picture a balloon filled with helium leaving my hands and floating away. A memory takes me back to 20 years ago when my mother died and at her funeral, the grandchildren released balloons, symbolic of Mom’s spirit ascending to heaven. During the process, we released her spirit, which had experienced greats amount of pain, to an everlasting life of peace. We let her go.

But nobody told me (whether they forgot or intentionally left the information out of the communique) that worries, problems and pains don’t float away in a balloon. It didn’t work for Dorothy in The Wizard of OZ, and it doesn’t work for me in Boise, Idaho.

Life’s events move more like of a boomerang than a balloon

Problems do not gracefully drift away never to return. We may ignore them, bury them, hurl them into the abyss, but they yell to be acknowledged, burrow up to the surface and as with a boomerang, return with all the speed and force that initiated their departure.

So, what to do?

First, be prepared

If correctly thrown, a boomerang’s return will sneak up from behind and knock you to the ground.

This happens to me in the middle of the night when dreams convey the past to my present. I’ve been known to scream and wake up the dog, my husband and myself when a scenario from an earlier time plays in my mind like an old video recording. Sometimes, I lie awake in bed listening to the sounds of the past and watching images fly around. Reminds me of the scene in The Wizard of Oz when the tornado lifted the house. As Dorothy laid on her bed memories of her life floated around her (good and bad) bringing back what she missed and torturing her with what the future may bring. During these dreams, I clasp the memories so tightly that if they were encased in a balloon, it would pop expelling stale emotions and deflating me at the same time.

Second, the first lines of Elsa's song are bad advice

“Don’t let them in, don’t let them see.

Be the good girl, you always have to be

Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know” ”

Life can’t be tolerated in isolation. Let people in and share your concerns. Suffering becomes lighter when the load’s dispersed. In my life, family, friends, and sometimes strangers provided support. Once during a manicure, I shared a troubling personal experience. Quite unexpectedly, the words and tears competed for attention. Three ladies gathered around to provide support and empathy. My concerns lightened simply by talking.

Another time, as I ate on the lawn at Wendy’s, all the agony of a family member’s medical crises consumed me, and I curled in a ball and cried. When the manager walked out to check on me, I assured him that I was fine but realized the time had come to reach out for support. I picked up my phone and called a friend. Just hearing her compassion sobered me and provided enough reassurance to return to the hospital to offer support .

Nobody is perfect and emotions can not be ignored away. Neither can we hide from reality.

Worse advice is the second line of the song

“Be the good girl you always have to be”

Elsa’s suggestion at this point is horrible! Be honest with yourself and others. Once I stopped trying to be perfect and realized I didn’t have to carry the weight of the world, life became easier. I started sharing my real thoughts that I once hid. It felt good being honest, and I discovered it felt great to share my feeling and thoughts. However, the cliche, “The truth will set you free” is not totally realistic because some people don’t want to hear the truth and become disgruntled. With that reality, I admit I learned that sometimes the truth doesn’t need to be stated out loud, just acknowledged.

Elsa’s advice in the third line is quite possibly the worst

“Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know.” We can not run away from our emotions. Remember that boomerang? If we don't acknowledge our feelings they will knock us down. Then we are sad and wounded.

My last three pieces of advice contradict everything the last line of Elsa’s song suggests.

Third, find an outlet for your thoughts

Writing provides an outlet to dump pain. I call it puking my emotions. Actually, last night one of those old video tapes I mentioned earlier played on repeat, waking me and making sleep unattainable. Once I sat at the keyboard and started writing, I gained control of my thoughts. Now as I write, I am sharing my strategies and reaping the rewards at the same time. This strategy allows the thoughts and emotions to reside on paper instead of wasting space in my mind and heart.

After my daughter had a stroke, I discovered Facebook Groups which provided another outlet. There are groups for people of common interests, similar backgrounds, and specific to any crises. I discovered groups for stroke survivors, stroke caregivers, women stroke victims . . . Each provided immense opportunities. I approached these groups as sites to abandon my thoughts but found they offered so much more in return: support, experience, ideas, laughter — basically what I needed at that time.

Furthermore, I have found groups for everything imaginable. Check them out.

Fourth, wear your heart on your sleeve

Waking up every day is hard enough without trying to pretend. Be genuine in your actions, words, and deeds. If others can’t accept the real you, that becomes their problem and their loss.

My only caution is to be careful to not to make your problem theirs. People will support you but if you expect them to carry your problems, you will be disappointed.

Fifth, feel everything intensely.

Feelings can only be buried so long before they explode. Believe me, your feelings exist and can’t be ignored. Make time to bring your feelings out to play. Hold each one in your hands and examine it. When sad, cry. When scared, seek comfort. When happy, laugh. When confused, ask questions. Langston Hughes said it best in his poem titled, Harlem. (Just substitute the word “dream” for “feelings.”)

Harlem

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up

like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore —

And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?

Or crust and sugar over —

like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

The movie Frozen is less than two hours, but it spans the character’s lifetime. In the end, Elsa has undergone a transformation, and her words reflect the change. Her words begin to make sense.

“Let it go

The cold never bothered me anyway

Let it go, let it go

And I’ll rise like the break of dawn

Let it go, let it go

That perfect girl is gone

Here I stand in the light of day

Let the storm rage on”

Problems confuse emotions, freeze us to the bone, restrict common sense, immobilize positive actions, interrupt healthy interactions, and block positive thinking. When we release the emotional pain by following these strategies, we begin to thaw and warm-up to the possibilities in life. Letting go is the first step to emotional stability but in isolation is only a deterrent.