Anger Management

I am currently reading a book about this new culture of rudeness we live in. Specifically how it's a psychological epidemic because it actually impacts the way we problem solve, process, and carry-on long after exposure to rudeness. "F You Very Much: Understanding the Culture of Rudeness - and What We Can Do About It" by Danny Wallace has only been on my nightstand a couple days. I am not tearing through it nearly as quickly as I just devoured Busy Phillip's "This Will Only Hurt a Little" probably because this is pretty depressing and Busy's memoir was filled with interesting anecdotes about Health Ledger. 

I mention this as a precursor to this blog because I diligently want to keep my anger from overflowing into the world around me. And I understand the social repercussions of this space I am currently holding myself in. This blog is to hold me accountable to putting this anger somewhere, without causing my own Hot-dog Incident*. 

Part of me has been foaming at the mouth to get these words out in a blog lately. Because I am experiencing a form of my depression that is rare and I feel like I should lean in and see what it does. That's the thing about reoccurring depression and anxiety, you can run different plays on them and if they fail, it's all good. You'll get to implement a new strategy tomorrow! Notoriously the time of year that my dad passed away has a lot of triggers for me. And I am used to becoming lethargic and introverted. But this year, SURPRISE - I am FUCKING PISSED.

I am not fucking pissed my dad is dead. I mean, I am certainly not pleased about it. But I have come to terms with his passing and the grief of that loss looks different every day and I imagine always will. But the reason my PTSD triggers from this time of year feel particularly bad has very little to do with the loss of my dad. In fact, it's the same circumstantial life stuff I would stress and feel anxious and/or depressed about, but instead of those regular feelings, I am angry.

After my contract with Hilton being cut short in the fall of last year, it took some time to get another stable job. I have always kept my self-esteem closely intertwined with my career, because it was something I felt I at least had control over. But that's far from the truth. In some cases, things just aren't based on performance or merit or logic or fairness.  Sometimes you can do your absolute best and your position will be dissolved because the owner doesn't like change or their isn't money in the budget, or you're being asked to make white nationalist propaganda videos.

So here I am, unemployed again after having an already rough go of it just nailing down a new position. And then maintaining it for 3 months with a 12 hour day, due to a 2 hour each way commute, and to show for it - not even enough time at a company to worth mentioning on a resume. They lose nothing. I go back to living in fear and panic of where the next rent check comes from. I'm not sad this time. I'm fucking pissed.

I guess you can say I have been sad and anxious about situations like this for so long now (i.e. having my water shut off in my 20s, getting arrested after my house got burgled for having a missed court date, etc) that now I am just getting angry I am in them time and time again. Why does this keep happening? I believe I am a fundamentally good person.  I try to do what I can for others whenever I can. The dumb financial choices I have made in my 20s have virtually ended (with the exception of Taylor Swift merch I specifically wait to become available secondhand on eBay). I am doing everything right now, I feel I have really been trying hard at it since moving to LA, and the wrong things just keep happening.

I have always thought anger was a useless emotion. And for the sake of my relationships right now it certainly is. I have more or less cocooned myself in my home while I figure out my next move. Not to be dismissive of how my mood can be changed in the company of good friends, but because I don't want to bring down company with my anger. Which I will, because I am angry at aspects of the people I love's lives. And I certainly don't want to put that on them unnecessarily. It's unwarranted, it's their lives and their choices. and at the end of the day their failures or successes have no real bearing on my happiness and if I am achieving my goals.

Which if you are just skimming, I am not. Unless my goal is to be irrationally angry at the minefield of shitty life paths I have in front of me. I don't want to work for another old, white, republican man. Ones who don't understand the value of a dollar, nonetheless the value of the people that work for them. At first I wondered if that meant having to leave LA. Then on a broader scale, I wondered if I would have to move to an entirely different planet. 

I also don't want to be so naive as to think the perfect, humanitarian POC, preferably female, is going to knock at my door with a viable career opportunity that also allows me to see a doctor with a co-pay in a medical emergency. Or you know, just get my monthly medication for under $300. 

This blog has been a LOT of personal bitching, but I will get back to the point. My life right now is not where I wanted it to, nor expected it to be. The people I keep a focus on are the ones that keep working and never stop despite their circumstances, because they don't have the opportunity to otherwise. The ones with no savings, no safety nets, no phone-a-friends left. The ones that have to get up every day and do it for themselves because there is no other option.

So if I have to strap on my helmet, and run fearlessly into the minefields of potentially more toxic careers, filled with heartless, money-grubbing fascists, I am going to fucking survive it. I am going to channel this anger into energy and just go at it full speed ahead. I am too fucking pissed off not too. And who knows, perhaps if I pay it to the man for another decade I can have the opportunity to "follow my bliss" like every care-free, Netflix documentary tells you is the way to spiritual enlightenment. 

I've followed my bliss a few times now, never once has it walked me to ComEd and helped explain why I can't keep my lights on. But that's just me. 

*Reference to "F You Very Much: Understanding the Culture of Rudeness and What We Can Do About It.