I’ve been planning this post since yesterday morning, since I was sitting in my therapist’s office talking about work and getting angry and then talking about whatever other stuff and getting angry. My therapist pointed out what types of things seemed to be making me feel that way, that fiercely passionate way. We talked about it, and she suggested that I write down other things that make me, for lack of a better phrase, fucking pissed off. Those weren’t her exact words haha (although she does curse sometimes which I find incredibly cool). I need to find patterns, figure myself out, all that stuff. I thought about it at work yesterday, and I kept thinking about it when I got home and cooked dinner, and I was trying to type this out yesterday night while Andrew and I watched this documentary about flat-earthers because holy SHIT that made me angry. Like, too angry to formulate a coherent post despite wanting desperately to write.
It’s a new day, though. It’s a sunny, bright morning, not even 9am yet, and I’ve been awake and enthusiastic for nearly three hours already. I got iced coffee even though it’s freezing, and came to my parents’ house to do laundry, which means I hung out with them for a while before they went to work and now I’m sitting with my doggo and I’m comfortable and yeah, good things. These seem to be the perfect conditions to think about what makes me mad.
And I guess I’ll start by telling you how we got on the subject yesterday. I was explaining to my therapist that my boss is sometimes really terrible to the older ladies I work with. She treats them unfairly and unkindly, and it kills me because these women are not only the nicest people but they’re really really old. Don’t be fucking mean to old people. Don’t pick on them unnecessarily just because you want to feel powerful. That is lower than low. Imagine if someone was mean to your mom or grandma for no reason. It is disgusting to me.
As you can see, I got angry on behalf of these women, my friends. I got mad because someone was mean to someone else for no reason. And there’s a common theme of things of that nature making me mad. I don’t like when people are mean like that. I don’t have tolerance for people who are bad or unfriendly. People who are intentionally not good. My therapist reflected back that injustice makes me mad.
We talked more while I was in that same fiercely passionate mode (I’d even call it violently passionate? If only because of how it sounds?). I mentioned conversations about abortion and it sparked that rage deep within me, because how DARE idiots have opinions on something that doesn’t involve their own body. I mentioned people not understanding mental illness. More specifically, how someone told me while I was in the middle of a panic attack that I just wanted attention. Let me just tell you how much that pissed me off. Because I DO like attention; that is an obvious and given thing. But I don’t seek attention by struggling to breathe between the sobs that shake my entire body, because when I want attention I fuckin’ ASK for it like an ADULT. I learned in a very life-changing way that that’s the best way to go about it. So don’t you for one second think my PANIC ATTACK has anything to DO with that.
I hope what my therapist saw in me yesterday is coming through in these words here. I have trouble standing up for myself and speaking up. But when it comes to this shit, I have NO problem channeling the Incredible Hulk and raging out. And then I revert back into my nicer demeanor. And that’s that.
Right so let’s analyze. Ignorance frustrates me. Like the abortion issue and the flat-earthers and their ridiculous conspiracy. You shouldn’t be allowed to be ignorant when it so clearly has a negative impact on others. Along those lines, you shouldn’t be allowed to make someone feel less-than over an issue you don’t understand. Particularly when you are LUCKY you don’t understand. If you’ve never panicked yourself into a dark corner and melted into a black hole, don’t comment on it all. Also. It angers me when people act superior. When they’re condescending. When they make me feel stupid. When they insult my intelligence, basically. Because I’m not self-conscious about my body, really (points to me there), but my brain is something that I feel I have to protect. Similarly, don’t be rude for no reason. Have consideration. Have manners, you should’ve learned how when you were fucking FIVE. Be respectful or go to hell. That’s why I hate customers at work; they are so incredibly disrespectful. Therefore, I don’t consider them to be humans. They are savages. I think of them this way to protect myself. Lastly, overall unfairness pisses me off. Things should be fair. End of story.
The general gist of that preceding paragraph, I think, is that large, philosophical issues make me tick. And maybe that sounds mature or whatever (maybe?) but then these stupid, minor things send me flying off the handle too. Like when the WiFi doesn’t connect. Oh my GOD does that annoy me. Just WORK, is that so DIFFICULT? Or when things don’t work out how they should (because things never just work out, everything is constantly being messed up by life). When people drive too slow? Just gooooooo. Go!!! Time limits make me insane. Because it’s so stressful when the clock is ticking and you’re waiting and you’re trying to be on time or get something done and it just isn’t fucking working and holy shit the anxiety. Nine times out of ten it’s not my fault if I’m late for something. So yeah. Time makes me angry.
[update: apparently these all fall into the category of “lack of control”]
I really can’t think of anything else that I’ve gotten mad about lately. What makes NORMAL people mad??? Comment with responses, because normalcy alludes me…
Anyway, my therapist and I continued talking. I said that I sometimes use both sides of myself in combination. I stand up for myself in an aggressive way but mask it with niceness so as to not cause too much trouble. I also remember saying something along the lines of “I’m gonna take my emotional baggage and beat the assholes with it,” because I want desperately to protect others from pain. I referenced how it’s always a shock when happy people commit suicide but that in reality, those people may seem super happy to others because they don’t want other people to feel the hurt they feel inside. I called myself a sort of “Emotional Robin Hood.” I wanna help those who’ve been hurt like Robin Hood helped the poor. I want to steal undeserved confidence from insulters and give it to the insulted. And do things like that.
Wow, so I dunno if writing has helped me process any of this, but I have therapy again tomorrow so we shall see, I guess 🙂