Interesting question. Just a little bit about me for context. I'm 37, single and childless. I grew up in what was, objectively, a dysfunctional home. Of the three children in my family, I am the only one without a drug or alcohol dependency. Thankfully, none of the above three sentences actually reflects my reality, but that's after a lot of work.
I'm not ashamed to admit that after about 33 years of trying to deal with my family and upbringing, I decided to see a therapist. That was over three years ago, and my life has changed so much in that time. Therapy hasn't been a cure-all, but it has made it possible for me to love and accept myself more fully, to better realize happiness in my life and to develop and maintain the type of relationships that I want to have. I still encounter problems and set-backs, but I'm not better able to deal with and bounce back from them. My "highs" are higher and my lows are less frequent and less intense. So how do I deal with disappointment? In no particular order:
While "denial" is a natural part of grief and loss (and I can't say that I avoid it altogether), I try to acknowledge and respect my feelings, rather than deny them. In my experience, denial only serves to magnify the feeling; the feelings eventually come out "sideways" anyway, leading to arguably counterproductive behaviors. Interestingly, as my therapist points out, I identify a lot of my emotions as "being mad." I've gotten a lot better at admitting when I'm feeling sad, hurt, disappointed, insulted, etc. Calling a feeling what it really is helps diffuse it.
My therapist and I spend a lot of time talking about the "snake and the worm." Many of the current disappointments in my life (the "worm") often seem more acute because of something in my family or in my past (the "snake"). By identifying the snake for what it is and the worm for what it is, I am better able to understand what's really making me upset and better able to deal with it.
I try to practice healthy coping skills when I'm going through a loss. I practice yoga, I ride my bike, I reach out to friends, I take the time to do little things for myself that make me feel better. A friend of mine said the other day that "no one can take better care of me than me." So true. In the wake of a loss, I often try to focus on life-affirming things. For instance, I ended a relationship about five years ago with someone I truly loved. A few months later, I decided to take my first solo trip to Europe. It was incredibly healing and I have followed up with several other trips, each of which has made me feel "alive." Alive is good. More recently, in the wake of yet another breakfup, I have renewed some volunteering efforts. I hope to help other people in so doing but also know that I will help myself.
Most importantly, I pay close attention to what I tell myself about me. It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that bad things happen to me (or, as is more often the case, that good things don't happen to me) because I'm a bad/unlovable person. I try to stop myself from that kind of thinking. Even when I know I've made a mistake, I'm careful about making negative generalizations about myself and try to keep the mistake in the perspective of my larger (mostly good) self.
More philosophically, I try to remember that happiness--no matter what life looks like on paper--is not something that just "happens." It's largely a choice. Some days that choice is hard; some days it's easy. It's wrong for me to assume that anybody else's life does not involve that same choice. AT times, I may envy my friends who are married with children, but their lives can be and often are just as difficult and just as lonely. Now that I feel more empowered with the help of therapy, that "choice" is very exciting to me. My life need not be a reflection of my family or upbringing.
I would note that since I've starting biking, everyone agrees that I'm a lot happier.
Live with intention. Walk to the edge. Listen hard. Practice wellness. Play with abandon. Laugh. Choose with no regret. Continue to learn. Appreciate your friends. Do what you love. Live as if this is all there is.
--Mary Anne Radmacher