I am fucking angry today. And you know what, I have every goddamned right to be:
- My brother’s mental health issues being as wearing as they are, and more importantly, his perceived unwillingness to get out of it.
- Yesterday’s inappropriate, off-sides and off-base comment from a colleague about the quality of a program that many people have put their blood and sweat and hours into, that many of our students depend on daily.
- Today’s discovery of another spousal deception – in hiding a set of text messages from the co-worker she used to butcher our marriage, in the trust we have, to “protect me” (just like she tried to do by lying last week about driving him home after work) – caused my hands to go cold, to shake uncontrollably.
One good thing to this is that it is an actual feeling. It is not a positive feeling, but it is a caused feeling; it is an emotion with an antecedent. This does not make it any less loathsome, the experiences any easier or the pain any more bearable. It is still hard to not have that anger trickle down into my treatment of innocents: my students, colleagues, the cats. It is just somewhat a relief to have such clear lines, since I have been so spider-webbed with my emotions previously, one vibration leading to an earthquake somewhere geographically distant and yet interconnected somehow.
That’s bulllshit though, but only because there is not a resolution to it through that. In fact, there might not be a resolution to it. It doesn’t matter right now if the answers are simple or hard if there is no resolving it. I am angry. That is normal. So fucking what? It is time to be normal, which means the real emotions that are not avoided or blocked off or shoved down my throat, just to re-emerge later as poisonous cancer. I can use the strategies that I have to cope, but sometimes, shit things happen: people you care about kill themselves, children you love die of illness, family and friends you depend on abandon you in times of true need, the one you love breaks your heart. Today is hard, the albatross I feel is being weighted down just that much more today.
I am not trying to find a perfect life, just a real life. I am trying to find a life out of the Matrix-like land controlled by the blackness, one of depression and anxiety and insomnia and eating disorders. The cloud is being lifted from my world, the black cloud that causes only oblivion, but that doesn’t mean the sun is shining. It is pouring rain; I want someone to see me getting wet, take my hand, lift me up and make me jump in the puddles with them. Not that I can’t do it myself, but my flawed house of love…