As I write this, I am waiting in my office for a very nice gentleman from a nearby auto-repair shop to return with my patched tire. I truly believe I have more flat tires than the average person and I know my husband agrees. In my defense, I am fairly confident it is not my fault that random nails, shards of glass and razor blades seem drawn to my tires!
To say the least, my discovery of the flat tire pushed me over the edge into a pretty bad mood. My morning had started off somewhat hectic and I was juggling a lot of people’s needs as clients texted with problems and scheduling issues. I thought I had it under control when my low tire pressure signal came on a few miles from work. Since I was so close, and the warning signal had not yet turned to an alarm, I drove on to my office.
At first glance, my tires looked okay and I was hopeful that they were just a little low for some reason. Unfortunately, when I went out to check between clients, I discovered the flat. Bring on the frustration. I instantly went to thoughts of “how am I going to get this fixed and when?” I had clients coming and I have to leave my office promptly at the end of the day to pick up my kids.
My frustration definitely climbed. Yet I caught myself before I lost all perspective. Yes, this was annoying, and it could have been a lot worse. I discussed this perspective in my post “First World Problems.”
In order to ward of the negativity, I relied on the “compare” skill that DBT teaches in order to assist with distress tolerance. The skill notes our natural tendency to compare ourselves in the most unfavorable way. That includes being overly-aware of how things could be going better. DBT teaches that we tolerate distress better when we remember to be mindful of comparisons in both directions. In other words, remember how things could be going worse.
In my case, I was fortunate enough to be sitting in my office with a flat tire and not on the side of a road in the dark, or rain. I have been there, and it definitely sucks a lot worse! I also realized that, in a pinch, I had someone I knew could get my kids even if I hated to ask. Definitely a huge relief.
I should point out that I only find this skill helpful when I don’t use it to invalidate my current irritation. “It could be worse” does not mean it couldn’t be better, or that I am not entitled to feel frustrated. As many of my clients complain, it is particularly unhelpful when others tell us that we shouldn’t feel the way we do because it could be worse. That type of feedback typically serves to increase our distress.
Maintaining balance in my comparisons kept me calm. I am convinced that that calmness started my day rolling in a better direction. In fact, as I was venting to a colleague who saw me in the parking lot, I had a client call to reschedule an appointment to a different day. That freed up an hour to deal with my tire.
I then lucked out further when the garage down the street was willing to come to my office to look at the tire. Turned out it could be patched. The mechanic was so thoughtful that he offered to take the tire, fix it and then come back to put it back on. Nice reminder that a lot of people really do want to “help a person out.”
No one would call a flat tire a fun event, but I actually left the experience with a smile instead of a desire for a stiff drink!
