Be it so angry


Ironically, I woke up angry today.  

Anger is natural.  Anger is the response we as tiny humans choose unthinkingly when we don’t get what we want, and at 44 I am embarrassed to say it is still often my first response. 

My poor little kid’s coughing and hacking in the night after finally having a day where he was mostly well after a 5 day streak of viral fevers had me instantly furious. 

WTH?  Can’t we get a break?  Can’t I get a break?  Why does everything happen at once?!!  


After two hours of positive reading,  praying, drinking tea and trying to get warm downstairs I’m letting it go.  I should have probably gotten on the treadmill but I am letting that go too.  Baby steps.

Yes, it’s been a rough two weeks here.  I’ve been sick with colds and stomach flu, we’ve suffered some minor injuries, we’ve been washing laundry non-stop, and we’re all pretty exhausted.  When life gets like that, and it seems you go from one trial to another, it can get rough. 

The truth is, this stuff – this stuff that happens: sickness, pain, struggle – isn’t going away. It’s a part of life. It sucks, but honestly it’s minor league.  But when we give into anger over it we lose every time: our energy, our focus, our joy, and our immune systems are compromised.  

And the last thing my little boy, my gift, my treasure needs from his mom is any negative energy.  Only positive energy heals.  Only love prevails.  I will be that love. I will be the mom he deserves.  

Thank you God, that it is a fever and cold, and not something worse.  Thank you God that the coughing is getting the garbage out of his system.  Thank you God that I can afford a house with heat and blankets and medicine to care for my child.  Thank you God that he is getting well.  Thank you God.  Thank you God.  Thank you God. 

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On Rage: 5 options when homicide is not an option.


We learn as little kids not to hit when we get angry – usually after we’ve slugged somebody. Apparently, we find, punching your sister in the face when she hurts your feelings isn’t proper behavior. Throwing things, screaming, pulling hair, tantrums of incendiary proportion: all bad.

By the time we hit adulthood, we have learned to hide anger. Pacificism and enlightenment are the answers. We learn to repress, to justify, to just suck it up. We learn to drink, to medicate, and to hide. We are successful, it seems, when no one outwardly experiences the other end of what we’re feeling. The closer we come to the embodiment of Spock, the better we are.

I don’t know how that works personally for you, but for me it sucks. I am a woman of, good or bad, strong opinions and even stronger emotions. I don’t just get angry: if unchecked, that anger ferments into a fine, ugly rage. And with nowhere to go, the emotions eat at my insides like acid. There aren’t enough mashed potatoes I can eat (suddenly craving mashed potatoes) or veiled, snarky comments I can make to reduce the bile that burns me up from the inside out. It uses too much of my energy, and I burn out. I shut down.

Here are some things I’ve learned can help when homicide just isn’t an option:

  1. Get a tennis racket. Beat your bed with the tennis racket, or just use your fists. The bed won’t care, and you might feel better. If nothing else, your sore fists might distract you temporarily.
  2. Scream until your throat hurts. I have learned that doing this somewhere where you cannot be seen is probably best. Drive to a deserted parking lot or a park; wait until no one is home to hear you, and let loose. Try not to get arrested.
  3. Write. When I say that, I mean it cautiously: don’t write something you may accidentally send on in your fervor. Write out your feelings and your venom. And then? Destroy it. No one needs to go back and read what your wrote, especially you – or anyone who might inadvertently come across what you never wanted another set of eyes to see.
  4. Break something. Maybe you have boxes in your garage that could be broken down, or plates you despise. Give them names if necessary. Destroy them. Show them no mercy, the bastards.
  5. Go for a walk. Now, before you think I am just talking about a normal walk, I’m not. Walk as hard and as fast you can. Throw in some sprints that take away your breath. Jump – on something if you can find it. Yell at a squirrel. If necessary, find another neighborhood to roam so your neighbors don’t think you’re a nut job.

A letter to the Passive Aggressive


Dear Passive Aggressive:

I would like to formally file a complaint. You will note I am stating directly that at present I am unhappy with you. Let me be clear: I think your communication skills are ineffective at best, and are a giant drain on my mental processing capacity to boot. Continue reading