Let's have the plain English version, Fire, it's probably easier, at least until I've made your psychologese click with mine.
When I say compartmentalization I am referring to a component of dissociation I experienced which IMO is like a dissociation lite topic.
As a child my emotions became like little figurines - as a coping mechanism. Without thought or intent each feeling of disgust or sadness or suffering was neatly placed in its own box or shared a box (parent was mean today, parent was not receptive today, parent was distant and dismissive, whatever) in my mind... these boxes floated freely through my conscious and all was pretty okay until those boxes started crashing together, when the contents mixed it was explosive. Psychologists typically see this defense mechanism as a negative trait and as a result I was never able to get any help from the therapists I was sent to (for my parents divorce) as they would not dig deeper and assumed I was just sad because my family was falling apart. Their objective was for me to stop employing coping mechanisms, the putting things in boxes isn't dealing with them in the therapists' eyes. My armor was so opaque that it was seemingly impenetrable (I catalogued all of those bad feelings, leaving them to be dealt with at a later date). Effective but very dangerous if left unchecked.
At some point during my maturation (22ish?) I found the words to discuss what I did unintentionally with my feelings. I had my first epiphany about the danger of the boxes crashing together... I realized that when that happened I would lose control and go completely numb. That was a jump point - I started digging through those mental boxes from childhood reliving the traumas and trying to work out where I went... where the secure and happy little girl went. When I thought it was clear that she died and a new version appeared in her place I mourned the original version of me, the version that saw beauty in every nook and cranny. In trying to love the damaged version of myself (saw the world similarly but did not feel like part of the world as I was the ugly, the bad, the unthoughtful, the selfish, and the discardable) I found my original self again. The original didn't die she was imprisoned for safeguarding by my mind. I've always been a 'lover' I love to love other people but I couldn't love myself after my experiences. I had discovered that I didn't feel worthy of my own love.
The work of digging in, of accepting myself for who I was/who I became and who I was working to be took a long time. I had to get right with this body - I had to accept myself as a woman and a human deserving of love. And then I had to learn to love myself again. And I do love myself again - I am a good person - I love people, I am incredibly empathetic and supportive and more assertive than ever in standing for what I believe is right. I have earned the love I receive from myself and others through forgiving myself.
Now that I see the benefit of this coping mechanism I am able to employ this tactic of placing issues/feelings/etc in mental boxes until I can properly deal with them - leaving me available and productive when it counts (crisis, stressful situations, etc). After everything goes quiet I sit with my thoughts and unpack whatever boxes need to be unpacked in groups or one at a time (depending on intersections). That's why I refer to it as being 'like' a superpower - when everyone around me is crumbling I am able to stay calm, give support/listen, problem solve, and communicate to all involved wtf is going on.
This is getting really long at this point so I am going to leave it here to see if my explanation was helpful.