Sulking & Other Excellent Forms of Self-Sabotage

When I am pissed off, I could literally sulk for days.

Happily wallowing in the perverse joy of my own self-enforced silence, occasionally adding a dirty look or pointed eye-roll for good measure. I could easily bury myself so deep in that sulk of mine, you would need to send a search party to seek me out. If you are a fellow sulker, you might recognise the triumphant warmth of self-righteous indignation. If you are at the receiving end of said sulk, you will most likely be at a loss. Even worse, when you try to understand where this silent treatment has stemmed from, you will be shot down with a single word.

‘Darling, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing!’

It’s pretty frustrating all round. The clever people at The School of Life describe a sulk as ‘one of the odder gifts of love’, because essentially, sulking stems from our disappointment that our loved ones can not read our minds. Somewhat irrationally, we expect that if they truly love us they will KNOW we are sulking because, you forgot our anniversary, or were flirting with Judy or made fun of us in front of our new friends. Our refusal to explain stems from the same – our assumption that you should KNOW without us having to S-P-E-L-L it out.

In truth, sulking is no fun for either party. The self-enforced den of silence can end up being a pretty lonely place to live and wallowing only allows the hurt to fester. Holding a grudge works in the same kind of way. So too does any type of resentment, bitterness and subsequent cravings for revenge. They are all excellent forms of self-sabotage, that can stand in the way of us moving on with our lives and ironically, often have the reverse reaction than we had intended.

You know what they say – ‘Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.’

I know ex-wives (and occasionally husbands* too) who have sulked for years. Allowed all that pent up fury to seep into every corner of their lives. Slowly either poisoning or pushing their children away, letting it eat in to any fresh relationships that come their way and filling up their faces with bitter lines and the ugly stain of disappointment.

Look – I get it. You have been hurt. They have been horrid. Life has been supremely unfair.

But, my friend, maybe it is simply time to move on. Let. It. Go. And unravel yourself from the hurts of the past, and let yourself skip toward the joyful possibility of the future. So, whether it is some fairly innocent sulking, or you have actually started to become a bitter, twisted mess in earnest, then maybe it is time to stop. Stop sulking. Stop plotting 19 different flavours of revenge, or holding so tightly on to that grudge that your knuckles have turned white. Either explain to the idiot who can’t read your mind what is wrong, or simply choose to let it slide. And with the serious, majorly hurtful stuff, maybe it is time to – gasp!– forgive. Forgive your rubbish parents. Forgive your lousy friend. Forgive that narcissistic, emotionally abusive, total prick of a person. Fear not – forgiveness does not mean forgetting or excusing – it simply allows you to release the grip that you, slightly stupidly, have been clasping around your own neck.

This Get Happier post is brought to you by someone who is often a lot better in theory than in practice.

*Not being sexist**, but most blokes tend to have too short an attention span to sulk for years.

** OK – maybe being a bit sexist.