When I woke up feeling awesome about today. Crunching on my All Bran flakes with diced mangoes soaked in milk, all the while thanking God for the awesome Friday it felt like, I could have sworn it felt like it was going to be a brilliant day that would swoop by and plant me at the beginning of another weekend. I thought it was super.
Life, of course, had to prove me wrong. I should have known it was too good to be true. I should have probably braced myself for everything that came around the corner when I was least expecting it, blindsighting me, taking the wind right out of my sails. But I’m a stupid optimist like that. I believe that when the going is good, not much can turn it around.
And of course, events of the morning promptly proceeded to fuck me over. Just the way I was not expecting. My morning featured a maddening project that just won’t leave me already. It kept me here close to ten pm last night, and just when I thought I might have seen the last of it this morning, it keeps coming back for more. Add to it the sudden disappearance of my earphones which suddenly make me realise I cannot function without music. Add to it the suddenly bulging inbox, with tasks that demand your attention, but you cannot bear to look at because what you have on hand just wont leave you. Add to that immensely meaningless and petty fight with good friend. And you have one awesome cocktail of emotions. Ranging from rad to frustrated and angry. Take your pick. It’s that kind of awesome day.
But here’s the kicker. That last event? Has led me to the scary conclusion that I’m a sucker for pain. Somehow I manage to constantly get myself back into the same complicated situations with people. Today was like someone ripped my heart out, handed it to me and asked me to watch as it slowly died a painful death. And something of that level of upheaval ought to have an extreme reaction, right?
Here’s where it gets interesting. My emotional reactions to these repetitive events in life seems to have gone from being completely distraught, buckled up in anguish and down in tears a few years ago, to just plain and simple, blinkin’ rage today.
But don’t get me wrong. I’m still just as hurt as I have been in the past. Just as sad. But sadness is a weird thing. Sometimes it comes with regret, sometimes with grief. Sometimes, surprise. Sometimes, nostalgia. And today, as I discovered, it can also come with a tremendous amount of anger.
And that my friends, sent me down a tunnel of thoughts I never should have gone down. The conclusion being, I think my brain has lost the capacity to just be sad. Purely sad. Like just accept it for what it is, and be sad. As much as my everyday emotions have levelled out and stopped being over the top and extreme, my reactions to events that must invoke a response bring out just one thing in me.
It seems my brain is incapable of channelising these feelings elsewhere. I find that I don’t have as many abrasive and untoward reactions to things in general, I’m calmer in the way I take in things around me, I’m largely peaced out and calm compared to the uber emotional person I used to be (I think). But when I feel wronged, like when I’m seeing something go against what I stand for, I see red.
The husband gave me his usual taciturn advice: Cut The Fat. And it made complete sense, like it mostly does. If something is causing an unwanted stress in your life, cut it out. I so want to just get up, dust my knees off and walk away from this. I wish I could just be sad and get this out of my system, rather than have this nagging bothersome anger lingering around. I wish I could cry my eyes out like I used to. At least that was some vent for what I was feeling and a few hours of sobbing later I’d be done with it. But its hard to vent writhing rage when it makes you want to box a wall and you suddenly remember you’re at work, in a room full of people.
So much for picking up and moving on. The joy!