No matter what befalls, you choose the part you play. Everyone chooses his or her role.
The title of drama queen gets passed down generation after generation. The title arises from somewhere. And then it leaves, and another chapter takes over. Let the next chapter unfold.
Part of being a drama queen is the belief that this well-known role is foisted upon you, that you somehow, willy-nilly, have no choice.
You are not obliged to appropriate this role even as you may believe you were cast in it. An event occurs. An event, no matter how dramatic, isn’t yours to ignite and stay in. This isn’t to say that drama doesn’t happen and befall you. It may be that you are thrust into the drama, yet how you play your part is up to you.
How much do you emote? What fillips to the role do you add? To what extreme, and for how long do you cast yourself into this role?
No one is saying that untoward events don’t fall upon you. Whatever untoward events reach you, you are the auto-responder. You send out, as it were, an autoimmune response. Of course, what occurs affects you. To what lengths do you carry on? For how long, and to what degree do you bewail what has occurred?
Beloveds, if the worst thing has occurred, it has occurred. You have already experienced deep drama more than once.
If you come to only one conclusion, you may run dramatically all the way off the page.
Do not think for one moment that I am suggesting that you be stoic. It is not for you to pretend that you are not heart-broken when you are. Cry your honest heart out if you have to.
We are talking about added drama. Does drama reduce your suffering? And when do you get back to your life as life is to be lived? When do you reduce your term of sentence and give yourself a furlough from grief? For how long do you reflect widow’s weeds on your face, and for how long and how well do you grieve?
Dear Ones, how well I know your grieving, yet grieving is a hot potato not to be held onto. No matter how deep and undeserved your grief may be, you don’t have to play the role of griever so well. Playing it well may amount to your playing it to the hilt. Make it sooner rather than later that you return to the Joys of Life. Have a comeback. You are not an actress on the screen. You don’t have to get an Academy Award.
Beloveds, there is more than one role you can play and play well. You can change costumes. One who mourns so well as you can also smile. Perhaps you can even think about something else besides the foul deed that befell. It is perfectly okay to give your shock and mourning a short run, dear ones. It is not for you to be lifelong loyal to grieving. Your grief is not a movie to be held over.
And you are not a performer in a stage play. You do not look to be a star. In your heartache, certainly it feels to you that no one ever suffered as you. You are one in a cast of thousands. It’s okay to play a bit part.
Then find another role to step into. Return to the little pleasures of life. You are not to major in tragedy. You can get up from grief. You can return to life even as your heart aches. You can go on about your life. You can pick flowers.
Grieve your grief, and then get up from the shallows of the world. Little by little, you can tell a different story. Little by little, you can restore yourself. You do not weep forever. Not even the greatest mourners weep forever. Your role in life is to discover new roles. You can’t stay in an old role. Expand the roles you play. You were once a weeper inconsolable. Now you can be an enjoyer of little things again.
Hearts do mend, and this is a good thing. Be glad your heart mends. You have a new role in life now. See what it is. Welcome.