I’ve always been a long-suffering superstar; perfecting, over time, higher levels of patience and toleration than is mentally healthy. And although I was once told I would earn jewels in my crown in heaven for my excruciating sticktoitiveness, that delightful enticement couldn’t hold out forever in the flesh. 

There is a scrawny, squiggly line sketched between patience, commitment, dedication and … insanity. 

Which reminds me of a story a friend shared a few years ago after she rammed her suburban into her boyfriend’s house during, which would prove to be, the last hurrah of that relationship. She called me in hysterics. She shared all of the reasons he was an awful human, the many times his indiscretions had come to light, and how he had driven her to madness. She had proof, too. Hard evidence she could share. Screenshots, even. She had believed his numerous promises—promises he had swiftly obliterated as soon as he made them. She wanted me to join her tirade, to break the air with his bashing. She sent me the evidential screenshots I hadn’t cared to see, and I looked at them against my better judgement. They were not in his favor. She wanted me to agree he was awful, but I couldn’t. I certainly would not have been a fan of experiencing what she shared she had experienced. But, I know humans are really good at giving those around them an education on themselves, and it’s up to us to decide how we want to navigate those “truths in identity.” We can accept them as they are, or take a hard left the first chance we get (you might be familiar with that particular left turn … and the screeching sound your wheels make as you peel out in front of oncoming traffic). 

Thrashing him wasn’t something I cared to do. I have discovered, on more than one occasion throughout life, that focusing on someone else’s actions is the least worthy investment of time. I wanted to be supportive of her, to help her come down from it all, to ease the pressure built-up in her head that her new personal mission was to defame him. “You stayed too long,” I said. “He is who he is and he proved that to you time after time—and as much as he’s obviously not a good fit for you, I’m not going to say he’s a bad guy in general.” 

The trouble with situations involving connections to others is that we ride the line of our “want” so fiercely our vision is blurred to the realistic (non)possibility for something different—we want and demand change that people or circumstances aren’t able, capable, equipped, ready, or willing to make—and we make them the bad guys for it. When it’s actually on us—not them—to make that reckoning and adjust accordingly. 

So, there is my friend in the dark of night sitting behind the steering wheel of her supersized suburban revving the gas to smash her car—and the insanity it contained—into the side of her boyfriend’s house. Some may check themselves in this moment. Ease up on the gas peddle. Keep their wits and call a lifeline. Anything to interrupt the madness of the moment so a sliver of sanity can slip in. But, instead, my friend eased up on the break peddle of her big rig and let her anger run it straight through his garage door. 

This was years ago and everyone has since recovered. But I have used the visual of my friend sitting in her suburban, ready to slam the peddle to the metal, when I’ve felt like I was about to snap. “Don’t stay too long, sister,” I say to myself. “They are who they are—or it is what it is—and you better adjust before you lose your mind.” 

It’s not a noble act in any setting to stay beyond sanity’s expiration date—in the workplace, on social media, in a friendship, within a romantic connection, ties to family members, conversations on topics such as politics, social economic disparities, homelessness, biblical righteousness, and so on. There are plenty of other ways to “earn” jewels in your crown in heaven, for those souls who value such a dream. 

When emotions reach their grip around the physiological spaces in our bodies—when our heart thumps into our ears, or we begin breathing through our pores, or our gut launches a war within—it’s a mighty good sign to ease off the gas peddle, and invest special—and serious—attention to what is occurring within us in regards to what surrounds us. The only proof you need that it’s time to step out and away is how your body feels. There will always be challenges in life, and there is much worth fighting for—but it’s important to discern the effects on our wellbeing. I recently told a friend who was on the edge that she’s the eagle in the coal mine—a canary would have been long gone by now. It’s a dangerous space for our mental health to stay in environments, relationships or conversations that wreck us. Wishing clarity, peace, mental health, and never “staying too long”—to us all. 

We are Spokane Coeur d’Alene Living, and we are Spokane and Coeur d’Alene. Please find me on Facebook and Instagram—and hop over to “like” the Spokane Coeur d’Alene Living page—to stay connected between press dates, and share your thoughts, stories, and life in real time.

For the sake of sanity,

Stephanie Regalado

[email protected]