This is NOT a Rant…this is a Vent…

…more like an observation. Or understanding. Actually, more like me coming to terms with life and the place that I am currently in. Yeah. Some people say to write through your emotions because that’s the only way out. Others say to think through your emotions because you’ll find that whatever you were feeling was insignificant to the big picture. I do both, but prefer the latter in terms of gaining understanding.

Either way, as a coping technique for both anxiety and anger (go figure), I learned to exhale and count backwards from 10. Or 50. Or 100 depending upon the level of angst and the amount of time you have to adjust. That shit has become a lifesaver. Whether it saves the life of myself or others, we’ll never know. But everybody is fine and that’s most important. The coping method has helped my ability to disconnect from certain feelings and I can definitely appreciate that. Seeing as I feel every fucking thing. Today, just for a second, I felt something that I haven’t felt in a long time. I was connected to it and it scared me. It was a moment of hurt that turned into intense anger (which is the normal route that being hurt typically takes for me). I stood there, trying my hardest to continue conversation normally but I felt the ache in my heart that certain situations bring about, then, almost immediately after, I felt the heat of anger spreading through my body and my fists involuntarily balling up. I felt my heart began to beat more rapidly as the adrenaline automatically took root. I was fucking pissed. Haven’t been there in awhile so it took some doing to convince myself to walk away.

Here’s the thing: it didn’t happen during an argument or an altercation. It didn’t happen in a moment where I had any reason to be particularly pissed off. It happened as my s.o. explained to me why she couldn’t go outside with me for 5 minutes. Small, right? A ridiculously innocuous incident that should have warranted an eye roll at the very worst. Yet, this conversation was able to trigger a bout of anger that I haven’t felt in at least 5 or 6 months.

I needed to find the root, and after 10 minutes or so of counting backwards, I was able to get directly to it. As with most disagreements, it wasn’t at all what was said, but how. It was the irritation seething from her tone and the subsequent dismissal of me and my (obviously) irrational idea. That quickly brought my mind back to moments where I’d been made to feel like I was too…something. Too needy or too whimsical or too ‘extra’. And that soon connected me to the moments I’d felt that way previously that I bottled up for the sake of not wanting to be a bother. The problem with being deeply connected to your own emotions comes in dealing with those who are not. In those moments, any amount of emotion that you show seems like too much, and automatically pushes you into a space where you don’t feel emotionally safe or ‘allowed’ to feel and express at all. That space sucks.

Thankfully, I adjust to things rather quickly. Moods, circumstances, random events, individual personalities-I adjust. I always adjust because I’m bendable and see my ability to adjust as a positive. It has been thus far, at least. This situation definitely calls for an adjustment so as not to reach that level of anger without direct provocation again. And I’ll do so for my sake, because my peace of mind and general level of happiness are never debatable, regardless of what goes on around me. Life is fluid, and these fucked up moments pass. All we have to do is pick up some knowledge in passing. Not hard at all

Now, look at that, I have turned a new leaf by thinking and writing through my emotions. Is this not the purpose of the damn blog?!? To push these emotions out in order to avoid being preoccupied by them (as well as tell random stories about the amalgamation of fuckery that is my life). I don’t wanna be a douche and walk around all irritable waiting on people to screw up or annoy me,  and I definitely can’t be the naive person walking around thinking no one can hurt me. They can, and that’s to be expected. But shit feels so much better when you care a little less about how others treat you. People can’t help how they are, but I can damn sure control how I react to them.

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