I haven’t even cracked the content and I already think this will be a good one to read next.
I’m so used to believing the worst of people. This may be what makes my relationship with my father such a prickly one. He makes a quip, my bristles spike out, I deflect with a practiced chill. Gone are the days of good-natured cussing contests to relieve my anxiety as I wait to perform a solo. (Much, I imagine, to Mr Borden’s relief.) This hurts me most when I want to believe better. Every time someone puts me off for some reason, or things just don’t go my way, I react in two ways: I get sad and I get angry.
Not at the same time. Sadness is first by a hair, usually directly following a bizarre kind of acquiescence (“I acknowledge that I am not worth your time/effort/love”). Sadness is top-of-the-pile emotion, always there when I need to feel something. Damn depressive tendencies. Then comes the misinterpretation. (“Wait a fucking minute, did I or did I not tell myself last time that I’d stick to my guns?”) Then there’s anger. Because yes, I do keep promising myself I’ll grow a backbone.
But I have to be careful to stop there instead of winding up with an exoskeleton. There’s legitimate anger and then there’s anger I’ve created because I didn’t stop and put something between raw emotion and action. Usually, that something is earth logic! I don’t always understand things, either, but if I don’t understand something, shouldn’t I ask questions before I blow up?
So complicated, this business of emotion. But I should learn, above all, how to ferret out the truth that I build with other people when we interact. It will help me see when my anger is justified and when I’m reacting to something that isn’t being said at all.