Here I sit on a Friday night trying to write a blog post about how angry I am. Seems lame. But let me tell you, after talking to friends and family, we are all angry.
I will start here; I was so angry this Tuesday past, I made a brochure about my anger. Title: Angry Woman Not Takin’ the Piss Any-Fucking-More. In this wee brochure I wrote “I feel like I am dying a death by 1000 cuts, and they are all paper cuts, and it is raining lemon juice. When is it appropriate to tell everyone to fuck off and not fuck back on again until they have their heads out of their asses?”
Evocative, right? You can see it.
I have been struggling the last few years with a major depressive episode. Not my first but, by far, my longest. I cannot recall the last time I truly spoke. For a while, it was great because I wanted to hide. Functional Depression is cool that way, right? You hide your shit and keep it tidy and no one ever guesses. Until you can’t hide it because it is crushing you and you’re dying under the weight of your own melancholy.
I was getting crushed late last summer. I was really close to adding to my string of rash decisions. You gotta keep moving away from all the madness. I needed stay under the radar and out of the hospital. I made all these bad choices, I accept this. I was right there trying to figure out the next move. To stick by the choice and make it right, or run like I was on fire and the last choice gasoline.
I have escape plans at the ready. I can stop drop and move on a dime. I have opportunities everywhere. Why would I stay on this path? The one that keeps me angry and frustrated and annoyed to no fucking end about everything? Why am I throwing good money after bad instead of running away? Because when we do nothing but runaway burning everything to the ground, you have not learned anything. You have not accepted the lesson the universe is serving you and you will carry these bad behaviors with you until you do. So for now, I have to make this decision right until I learn.
One of my favorite things to talk about is entropy. A lack of order or predictability causing a gradual (or not so gradual) decline into… Chaos.
Now we all say we hate chaos and want peace, but do we? We seem to constantly crave disorder and chaos when we keep trying to make a bad decision right. We all do this. We complain, we identify problems, we know solutions, but we wait for everyone else to make those solutions happen. I am guilty of this, we all are. And I will continue to hold myself accountable for all my chaos creating behavior.
From the endless chaos comes the anger, The perpetual grinding away at our souls, the deaths from 1000 cuts, when it’s raining lemon juice. It burns deep into you and in your core, you’re seething. We convince ourselves that we are powerless to change the problems in front of us. We continue to grind ourselves down, over committing ourselves to things we feel obligated to do for people we feel obligated to do them for. We are tired, We are chaotic, and we are angry.
Even worse, we aren’t really getting anything done. We still face the same problems, every day. They will always be there because we are too chaotic to stop for a moment and deal with them. Is it that there is never a good time? Well, there is no good time to fucking die but we all gotta do it. So why do we continue to feed the chaos?
I realized in that moment I decided to write that little, colorful, fucking trifold brochure dedicated to my anger, I had not used my voice in so long I didn’t know how to anymore. I was no longer a force to be reckoned with, I was just a person with no power and it was heavy. I was carrying years of unspoken needs and thoughts around my neck, trapped in my throat, strangling the spark out of me.
You will find that it is necessary to let things go; simply for the reason that they are heavy
C. JoyBell C.
So that brochure, that was the start of letting it go. It was fun. I even wrote a second one. Then in a fit of exacerbation I found myself creating this space. The brochures will come out at some point but for now this is enough. Small steps, toward the right things, and accepting my lesson about my chaos. That’s what I believe the lesson is, anyway. But it’s a long battle, fighting that chaos, reigning it in, so in the meantime you know what else is freeing? Telling a motherfucker to go pound sand.