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Not what I want for the norm...
I seem to wake up angry every day now. I mean, there were a few times in my past where I'd wake up grumpy or maybe pissed off from some dream I had but never would I consistently wake up angry. Not that I remember, anyway, which makes it the same thing to me since I slept alone during that period and there is no one to dispute me. So there.
But now, I wake up angry. It's my new best alarm clock, the word 'best' not meaning that I love it as in 'besties' which is close to beasties, which makes me wonder about who the hell makes up these names. No, rather my waking anger is best in that it is most effective, more effective than my alarm clock.
And it is an anger that isn't so specific that I can say, "man, I really hate those jelly babies. I hate the way they always stick in my teeth and make me feel like I'm pulling my molars out by the roots. Just can't stand 'em." No, nothing as exacting as that. And for the records, I may have eaten a jelly baby once. I probably didn't know it at the time, and if I did, I may have found it delicious. I don't know. I don't remember, and I didn't have anyone there to tell me differently.
I digress. I wake up non-specifically angry. Non-specifically should not be interpreted to mean I don't have a few folks that are the cause of me being angry. And for those correct, and yet assholian folks who feel the need to remind me (If you're over the age of 12 and have ever, EVER, been in a relationship with anyone of the opposite gender or, some case of gender confusion (I'm being attackingly specific here), the same gender and heard the phrase "Nobody can make you feel anything!", said an a wise, and oh, so condescending voice (This is crap by the way. If I beat you over the head, I will make you feel pain. You do not get to choose. You will feel it. This is the basis of marriage) then you, like me may have had the opportunity to refrain from jabbing a hot poker in the eyes of those wise and less than helpful folk) that I choose to feel whatever it is that I feel, I must say "Dorp Dead". Yes, that's correct. And it's the name of a book I read in the 6th grade. If I remember it correctly, it was a bout teenage angst and how to deal with the awkwardness of being different. It's possible that dyslexia was involved.
So Don't Tell Me I Choose to Feel the way I Feel. I know it's the truth for the most part. I've used the dumbass phrase as if it was a golden kernel I just dropped out of my butt, sounding all wise and smart and I'm pretty sure looking like an idiot to those who I'm trying to counsel. I do NOT choose to wake up angry. I choose how to proceed from that moment. And there's the real truth, babies.
We may not get to choose what we feel in the moment. We do, however, have the choice of how to react in the NEXT moment.
Whoever (and I'm pretty sure it was a woman) said "Nobody can make you feel anything" was not only lying out their ass, but was probably talking to some poor smoe, whose heart they just ripped out and stomped on. Nice way to prove YOUR innocence, Jolene. ('Jolene' being an anagram for the name of the real person. Also a level 1 cypher replacement. And I think there may be a smudge of jam in there as well) (Oh, as a side bar, there really was a Jolene. Nice girl. Lived out in the country and raised goats. Flaming red hair and a temper to match. She never stomped my heart. She intimidated the hell out of me, and I have always admired her for it.) (Oh, second side bar... The name Jolene refers to more than one person... All women. All women who have ever said "Nobody can make you feel anything" while stomping on a heart. Which means most women who have ever said this because they wouldn't admit or even recognize when they've stomped on a heart.) (end of paragraph, finally).
So. I wake up angry. I miss those mornings of lazy stretching and soft smiles while the sun shines happily through my bedroom window and the birds are greeting me with their little t'wit-t'woos and I think to myself "Why can't every day be as glorious as today?" No more. Now, I wake up angry. Almost. Every. Freaking. Day.
And who am I angry with, you might ask. Or, you might be asking "Would you just get the hell on with it??" Or you might not be asking anything, having moved onto your next friend in your list, having given up on me as a rambling idiot. For which, you might not be totally wrong.
Lessee... If I was to list those with whom I am angry with (yes, whom. bite me), it would be a very, very long list, because that tiny little (do you also say tiny little? it's a common redundancy, you know. however, if it was indeed tiny little, it would be very small indeed. I wonder... is there someone actually named Tiny Little?) portion of my mind that holds the beast I call ANGER has a very long memory. I don't hold grudges. And I don't have the sort of memory where I can just 'HOLD' something there for a long period of time and stew on it. I get distracted and my brain takes side-trips as easily as an 11th street hooker puts on mascara. What does happen is that I wake up angry, Remembering. and then it starts all over again. What else happens is that something may happen during the day to cause a cascade reaction and I may have an "Oh Yeah!" moment.
To recap. I wake up angry. I don't hold grudges because I can't. I do remember for a very long time.
This extensive list of folks with whom I'm angry goes alllllll the way back to before birth. And these are just those who effect my own personal life. I'm not angry with those folks who have no effect on my personal life because 1. it's stupid to be angry with those folks. What are you gonna do? and 2. All this reality is subjective anyway. It really is all about me. I just don't think it's right to be greedy about it. Selfish, yes. Greedy, no.
And, having said that little golden ass kernel, I was just reminded that my anger stems from those folks who have forgotten that, yes, while the world is totally subjective and it really is about you, it is also a world with 6 plus billion other totally subjective realities and it really is about them, too, so shut the hell up once in a while and consider the feelings of those around you.
Quit looking for a fight. As said by the great Will Smith, "You don't want sumthin, don' go startin sumthin." Oh yeah, and if you... any of you... but especially YOU think this is about Shannon, it is not. She's working 6 days a week, isn't happy about it, and has her grumpy moments. For the next few weeks, she's working 7 days a week, and I expect she'll be really grumpy about it. As for our relationship, we're doing quite fine, thank you very much. (Is this the point where I use names, point fingers, cry J'accuse? No. I don't need to. But the temptation to sink to that level is here, make no doubt.)
In brief. Most, if not all of my anger, is directed at women. I'm working really hard to see if I've ever been so emotionally betrayed by a member of my own sex, and I can't quite find it. Even my oldest brother Gary, who was physically and emotionally abusive to all his younger siblings was never as bad as the worst woman betrayal.
Now, I'm not as meat headed as some and believe that my own gender doesn't have their share of abusive and moronic knuckle dragging folks. Off the top of my head, I can mention one kilt wearer who I never really liked from the beginning and has moved on to prove my suspicions correct about his "I, me, mine" manners. And he was cloaked behind the mask of "I'm such a gentleman, I worship women, I can't abide anyone who treats them less than the goddesses they are." In fact, this one gentleman actually rose up from his chair to threaten me when I made an insinuation that women tend to be emotional liars most of the time.
Seems it would not be the last time some male would rise up from their sedentary position to voice their displeasure at my actions towards some female who got her little feelers hurt by something I wrote that they interpreted meant was about them. (can I name names yet? No, not yet)
My displeasure with most of the males I've come in contact with, when I've had occasion to have displeasure with them, stems directly from some reaction that was fostered in them by whatever female they happen to be associated with at the time. In other words, de menfolk, they got led by their emos or their testes because da' womanfolk got der feathers ruffled.
Left to their own devices, most men tend to be fairly cavemannish and civilized. What? You think the two are exclusive? Granted, it may have taken men a couple hundred years longer to have invented toilet paper, but it would have happened. And, there might not yet be such a thing as forks or plates, but there would be knives and recliners. Still and all, men, I believe, would be quite happy stopping emotional development somewhere in the late teens and have a job that pays the bills, plus a bit extra for... you know... beer. Sex is optional.
Doesn't mean I like most men. Just means I defend them. I think, like children wanting to please, they'll stand up and say "Um. Listen. It was, you know, kinda harsh what you wrote, you know. I mean, how would you feel if someone attacked your wife? You wouldn't like it, would you?" (by the way, this is NOT an actual conversation. However, please notice the closed ended question at the end. There is only one answer. Well.. more than one, actually. Yes, I would like it if someone attacked Shannon. I'd love to see her rip off their head and shit down their necks, because she can do it. Bwahahahahaha. Try it, buddy)
Now, about this attack crap. A few posts ago, I wrote that I didn't like to post anymore because what I wrote here wasn't mine anymore. In fact, Shannon told me she had received a message telling her she should play more attention to what I posted. Granted, what I was posting was a bit like what I'm positing here. How I feel IN THE FRIGGIN MOMENT. Give me 30 minutes, tell me a good joke and I'll feel a whole lot different.
Still, there was a bit in what I was posting that might have been interpreted by Shannon as indicating that I was less than optimum when it came to our relationship. You know what? That has changed, because Shannon and I have worked to make it change. It's not perfect, and that's the beauty of it. Perfection is stagnation, and who wants that.
Now, I was perturbed by the fact that someone who was reading my posts felt the need to go behind my back and tell Shannon to read my posts. Shannon and I were and continue to work on our relationship. We don't need some damn busy body (yes, I used the word again) to stir up crap. Because that is exactly what the intent was.
And you know what? I posted about my being upset about this. And you know what what? The busybody was so upset that she decided that she needed to make a statement. So... this is what the MO of this busy body is. If I were at a location and she were at that location, she would either A. tell the entire table that I was wrong and then correct my statement, regardless of her being right or not, or 2. she would interrupt my conversations and redirect it in a direction she knew would not include me. There's also a 3... where she would play a tune on her phone that nobody cared about, and she would play it loud enough that nobody could have a conversation, thereby monopolizing the world for her pleasure.
Now, I run the risk of offending this person by posting this here. Again. Frankly, I don't care. Shannon was upset at one time, because this person is one that Shannon considers a friend, and Shannon didn't want to lose that friend, and was sure I had cause irreparable damage to that friendship. I don't know how Shannon looks at that friendship now.
Here's how I look at that friendship. If you don't like something I post, tell me. Amberbob had the guts to do it when she thought I was speaking toward an issue she was having. Capi has done it. I know that Sherry has done it. There's been a lot of folks with the courage to stand up and take exception with what I've written. Does it ruin our friendship?
Not if they are friendships. True friendships are stronger than questions. If I'm in the wrong, I will either apologize or weasel my way to ingratiate myself before you. Either way, I will have been chastised and will usually publicly and loudly proclaim how wrong I was, because that's who I am and that's how my ego works. I need to be told ever so often that I'm not all that great, or else I will once again try to rule Europe with an Iron Fist. That's a metaphore, in case you were wondering.
I am lucky to have suffered brain damage in the past that helps me to forgive things. How does it do this? Like this: Say you and I have an argument. A really, really bad one. Yelling and stuff. Argument ends. Unless it was one where you insulted me to my core, I will probably not remember what the issue was 30 minutes later. Why? Because of Oh Shiny Syndrome. Yes, I have OSS. NOT ADHD or something like that. When needed, my powers of focus approach superhuman.
But the simple fact is this: Nothing is so bad that after 30 minutes I can't say "I don't remember what we were arguing about" Well... the word nothing being relative to two friends arguing over small crap, which is what most arguments are about anyway. 30 minutes is ample time to remember the good stuff and cherish those who are. Ain't that right, Sherry? You and I have had to have a number of these 30 minutes and by god, I still love you as I always have. What do you expect after 35 plus years?
Now, on the other hand, if you've known me for less than a year and think you have me figured out, you are dead, as in ded, as in not close to correct, wrong. I wear myself on my sleeve and still it's not all there, because it is one big mother of a sleeve. My heart is an open book, but still you don't see it because it is one very dense book and you're still in 3rd grade level.
My life is a complex simplicity of whirling universes of all those that I know and love and even though I may wonder what the hell some of them are thinking of or what the hell some of them are doing with their lives, it's not my decision to make a choice to say to their significant other "Oh, I think you should pay more attention to their posting". Because their significant other probably already knows. why do I make this assumption? Because people aren't as stupid as you think they are. They are just as stupid as you.
I don't love everybody. No, let me correct that. I love everybody, and I could explain that. It would take a lot longer, but it is doable. However, to the folk that I'm attacking. To the folk that I'm aiming this at, it would be a waste of time. You wouldn't get it. Now, that's an assumption. You might. You might totally understand what I'm saying and even agree with it. And then you still would reject it because it would mean you aren't as important as you think you are.
so, here's the deal. I wake up angry, and this little bit o'drama is a tiny little (as in very, very small) part of why I wake up angry. I may have lost a good friendship over it. That would be you, sir. I may have lost a less than good friendship over it. That would be the other you, ma'am. More's the pity, but truthfully, it's not worth going all passive aggressive over, which is your bent and mine too. Just let it go. If you want to grow and continue, then be a friend, show up, be friendly. Nobody needs to know any different.
However, I would suggest you consider the path you are on. The world may not necessarily agree with your assessment of it or what it will tolerate. This is not to dissuade you from your path. This is just me saying I've seen nicer, stronger people crushed to smithereens because they didn't know to bend when the wind blew. I fully expect you to ignore me. In fact, I look forward to it.
But now, I wake up angry. It's my new best alarm clock, the word 'best' not meaning that I love it as in 'besties' which is close to beasties, which makes me wonder about who the hell makes up these names. No, rather my waking anger is best in that it is most effective, more effective than my alarm clock.
And it is an anger that isn't so specific that I can say, "man, I really hate those jelly babies. I hate the way they always stick in my teeth and make me feel like I'm pulling my molars out by the roots. Just can't stand 'em." No, nothing as exacting as that. And for the records, I may have eaten a jelly baby once. I probably didn't know it at the time, and if I did, I may have found it delicious. I don't know. I don't remember, and I didn't have anyone there to tell me differently.
I digress. I wake up non-specifically angry. Non-specifically should not be interpreted to mean I don't have a few folks that are the cause of me being angry. And for those correct, and yet assholian folks who feel the need to remind me (If you're over the age of 12 and have ever, EVER, been in a relationship with anyone of the opposite gender or, some case of gender confusion (I'm being attackingly specific here), the same gender and heard the phrase "Nobody can make you feel anything!", said an a wise, and oh, so condescending voice (This is crap by the way. If I beat you over the head, I will make you feel pain. You do not get to choose. You will feel it. This is the basis of marriage) then you, like me may have had the opportunity to refrain from jabbing a hot poker in the eyes of those wise and less than helpful folk) that I choose to feel whatever it is that I feel, I must say "Dorp Dead". Yes, that's correct. And it's the name of a book I read in the 6th grade. If I remember it correctly, it was a bout teenage angst and how to deal with the awkwardness of being different. It's possible that dyslexia was involved.
So Don't Tell Me I Choose to Feel the way I Feel. I know it's the truth for the most part. I've used the dumbass phrase as if it was a golden kernel I just dropped out of my butt, sounding all wise and smart and I'm pretty sure looking like an idiot to those who I'm trying to counsel. I do NOT choose to wake up angry. I choose how to proceed from that moment. And there's the real truth, babies.
We may not get to choose what we feel in the moment. We do, however, have the choice of how to react in the NEXT moment.
Whoever (and I'm pretty sure it was a woman) said "Nobody can make you feel anything" was not only lying out their ass, but was probably talking to some poor smoe, whose heart they just ripped out and stomped on. Nice way to prove YOUR innocence, Jolene. ('Jolene' being an anagram for the name of the real person. Also a level 1 cypher replacement. And I think there may be a smudge of jam in there as well) (Oh, as a side bar, there really was a Jolene. Nice girl. Lived out in the country and raised goats. Flaming red hair and a temper to match. She never stomped my heart. She intimidated the hell out of me, and I have always admired her for it.) (Oh, second side bar... The name Jolene refers to more than one person... All women. All women who have ever said "Nobody can make you feel anything" while stomping on a heart. Which means most women who have ever said this because they wouldn't admit or even recognize when they've stomped on a heart.) (end of paragraph, finally).
So. I wake up angry. I miss those mornings of lazy stretching and soft smiles while the sun shines happily through my bedroom window and the birds are greeting me with their little t'wit-t'woos and I think to myself "Why can't every day be as glorious as today?" No more. Now, I wake up angry. Almost. Every. Freaking. Day.
And who am I angry with, you might ask. Or, you might be asking "Would you just get the hell on with it??" Or you might not be asking anything, having moved onto your next friend in your list, having given up on me as a rambling idiot. For which, you might not be totally wrong.
Lessee... If I was to list those with whom I am angry with (yes, whom. bite me), it would be a very, very long list, because that tiny little (do you also say tiny little? it's a common redundancy, you know. however, if it was indeed tiny little, it would be very small indeed. I wonder... is there someone actually named Tiny Little?) portion of my mind that holds the beast I call ANGER has a very long memory. I don't hold grudges. And I don't have the sort of memory where I can just 'HOLD' something there for a long period of time and stew on it. I get distracted and my brain takes side-trips as easily as an 11th street hooker puts on mascara. What does happen is that I wake up angry, Remembering. and then it starts all over again. What else happens is that something may happen during the day to cause a cascade reaction and I may have an "Oh Yeah!" moment.
To recap. I wake up angry. I don't hold grudges because I can't. I do remember for a very long time.
This extensive list of folks with whom I'm angry goes alllllll the way back to before birth. And these are just those who effect my own personal life. I'm not angry with those folks who have no effect on my personal life because 1. it's stupid to be angry with those folks. What are you gonna do? and 2. All this reality is subjective anyway. It really is all about me. I just don't think it's right to be greedy about it. Selfish, yes. Greedy, no.
And, having said that little golden ass kernel, I was just reminded that my anger stems from those folks who have forgotten that, yes, while the world is totally subjective and it really is about you, it is also a world with 6 plus billion other totally subjective realities and it really is about them, too, so shut the hell up once in a while and consider the feelings of those around you.
Quit looking for a fight. As said by the great Will Smith, "You don't want sumthin, don' go startin sumthin." Oh yeah, and if you... any of you... but especially YOU think this is about Shannon, it is not. She's working 6 days a week, isn't happy about it, and has her grumpy moments. For the next few weeks, she's working 7 days a week, and I expect she'll be really grumpy about it. As for our relationship, we're doing quite fine, thank you very much. (Is this the point where I use names, point fingers, cry J'accuse? No. I don't need to. But the temptation to sink to that level is here, make no doubt.)
In brief. Most, if not all of my anger, is directed at women. I'm working really hard to see if I've ever been so emotionally betrayed by a member of my own sex, and I can't quite find it. Even my oldest brother Gary, who was physically and emotionally abusive to all his younger siblings was never as bad as the worst woman betrayal.
Now, I'm not as meat headed as some and believe that my own gender doesn't have their share of abusive and moronic knuckle dragging folks. Off the top of my head, I can mention one kilt wearer who I never really liked from the beginning and has moved on to prove my suspicions correct about his "I, me, mine" manners. And he was cloaked behind the mask of "I'm such a gentleman, I worship women, I can't abide anyone who treats them less than the goddesses they are." In fact, this one gentleman actually rose up from his chair to threaten me when I made an insinuation that women tend to be emotional liars most of the time.
Seems it would not be the last time some male would rise up from their sedentary position to voice their displeasure at my actions towards some female who got her little feelers hurt by something I wrote that they interpreted meant was about them. (can I name names yet? No, not yet)
My displeasure with most of the males I've come in contact with, when I've had occasion to have displeasure with them, stems directly from some reaction that was fostered in them by whatever female they happen to be associated with at the time. In other words, de menfolk, they got led by their emos or their testes because da' womanfolk got der feathers ruffled.
Left to their own devices, most men tend to be fairly cavemannish and civilized. What? You think the two are exclusive? Granted, it may have taken men a couple hundred years longer to have invented toilet paper, but it would have happened. And, there might not yet be such a thing as forks or plates, but there would be knives and recliners. Still and all, men, I believe, would be quite happy stopping emotional development somewhere in the late teens and have a job that pays the bills, plus a bit extra for... you know... beer. Sex is optional.
Doesn't mean I like most men. Just means I defend them. I think, like children wanting to please, they'll stand up and say "Um. Listen. It was, you know, kinda harsh what you wrote, you know. I mean, how would you feel if someone attacked your wife? You wouldn't like it, would you?" (by the way, this is NOT an actual conversation. However, please notice the closed ended question at the end. There is only one answer. Well.. more than one, actually. Yes, I would like it if someone attacked Shannon. I'd love to see her rip off their head and shit down their necks, because she can do it. Bwahahahahaha. Try it, buddy)
Now, about this attack crap. A few posts ago, I wrote that I didn't like to post anymore because what I wrote here wasn't mine anymore. In fact, Shannon told me she had received a message telling her she should play more attention to what I posted. Granted, what I was posting was a bit like what I'm positing here. How I feel IN THE FRIGGIN MOMENT. Give me 30 minutes, tell me a good joke and I'll feel a whole lot different.
Still, there was a bit in what I was posting that might have been interpreted by Shannon as indicating that I was less than optimum when it came to our relationship. You know what? That has changed, because Shannon and I have worked to make it change. It's not perfect, and that's the beauty of it. Perfection is stagnation, and who wants that.
Now, I was perturbed by the fact that someone who was reading my posts felt the need to go behind my back and tell Shannon to read my posts. Shannon and I were and continue to work on our relationship. We don't need some damn busy body (yes, I used the word again) to stir up crap. Because that is exactly what the intent was.
And you know what? I posted about my being upset about this. And you know what what? The busybody was so upset that she decided that she needed to make a statement. So... this is what the MO of this busy body is. If I were at a location and she were at that location, she would either A. tell the entire table that I was wrong and then correct my statement, regardless of her being right or not, or 2. she would interrupt my conversations and redirect it in a direction she knew would not include me. There's also a 3... where she would play a tune on her phone that nobody cared about, and she would play it loud enough that nobody could have a conversation, thereby monopolizing the world for her pleasure.
Now, I run the risk of offending this person by posting this here. Again. Frankly, I don't care. Shannon was upset at one time, because this person is one that Shannon considers a friend, and Shannon didn't want to lose that friend, and was sure I had cause irreparable damage to that friendship. I don't know how Shannon looks at that friendship now.
Here's how I look at that friendship. If you don't like something I post, tell me. Amberbob had the guts to do it when she thought I was speaking toward an issue she was having. Capi has done it. I know that Sherry has done it. There's been a lot of folks with the courage to stand up and take exception with what I've written. Does it ruin our friendship?
Not if they are friendships. True friendships are stronger than questions. If I'm in the wrong, I will either apologize or weasel my way to ingratiate myself before you. Either way, I will have been chastised and will usually publicly and loudly proclaim how wrong I was, because that's who I am and that's how my ego works. I need to be told ever so often that I'm not all that great, or else I will once again try to rule Europe with an Iron Fist. That's a metaphore, in case you were wondering.
I am lucky to have suffered brain damage in the past that helps me to forgive things. How does it do this? Like this: Say you and I have an argument. A really, really bad one. Yelling and stuff. Argument ends. Unless it was one where you insulted me to my core, I will probably not remember what the issue was 30 minutes later. Why? Because of Oh Shiny Syndrome. Yes, I have OSS. NOT ADHD or something like that. When needed, my powers of focus approach superhuman.
But the simple fact is this: Nothing is so bad that after 30 minutes I can't say "I don't remember what we were arguing about" Well... the word nothing being relative to two friends arguing over small crap, which is what most arguments are about anyway. 30 minutes is ample time to remember the good stuff and cherish those who are. Ain't that right, Sherry? You and I have had to have a number of these 30 minutes and by god, I still love you as I always have. What do you expect after 35 plus years?
Now, on the other hand, if you've known me for less than a year and think you have me figured out, you are dead, as in ded, as in not close to correct, wrong. I wear myself on my sleeve and still it's not all there, because it is one big mother of a sleeve. My heart is an open book, but still you don't see it because it is one very dense book and you're still in 3rd grade level.
My life is a complex simplicity of whirling universes of all those that I know and love and even though I may wonder what the hell some of them are thinking of or what the hell some of them are doing with their lives, it's not my decision to make a choice to say to their significant other "Oh, I think you should pay more attention to their posting". Because their significant other probably already knows. why do I make this assumption? Because people aren't as stupid as you think they are. They are just as stupid as you.
I don't love everybody. No, let me correct that. I love everybody, and I could explain that. It would take a lot longer, but it is doable. However, to the folk that I'm attacking. To the folk that I'm aiming this at, it would be a waste of time. You wouldn't get it. Now, that's an assumption. You might. You might totally understand what I'm saying and even agree with it. And then you still would reject it because it would mean you aren't as important as you think you are.
so, here's the deal. I wake up angry, and this little bit o'drama is a tiny little (as in very, very small) part of why I wake up angry. I may have lost a good friendship over it. That would be you, sir. I may have lost a less than good friendship over it. That would be the other you, ma'am. More's the pity, but truthfully, it's not worth going all passive aggressive over, which is your bent and mine too. Just let it go. If you want to grow and continue, then be a friend, show up, be friendly. Nobody needs to know any different.
However, I would suggest you consider the path you are on. The world may not necessarily agree with your assessment of it or what it will tolerate. This is not to dissuade you from your path. This is just me saying I've seen nicer, stronger people crushed to smithereens because they didn't know to bend when the wind blew. I fully expect you to ignore me. In fact, I look forward to it.