Why so Angry?

I’ve always been an angry person, deep deep down in my soul. Everything winds me up; people eating too loudly, people breathing too loudly… damn it, just ‘people.’ However, I have been able to hide this anger, this monstrousity of a character flaw under sarcasm, being an introvert and very luckily being overweight for a large part of my life AND have psoriasis over 75% of my body! Winner, winner!! Who wants to get close enough to that to get to know the ‘real’ me… that angry, angry angry angry ball of something. 

Then at 28 years of age, I lost loads of weight and found a miracle pill that seemed to spare me the horror of psoriasis. I gained a desire to want new people in my life, romantically, and after a few hits and misses, ups and downs, I met a nice man, moved in, got engaged, had a little boy, who is 6 months tomorrow, and are coming up to five years together… thank you very much. 

So, pretty good. But remember I’m deep deep deep down angry and there’s only so long I can supress that living in close quarters with another human being and being pregnant seemed to amplify every angry thought, feeling, reaction I had. 

My mother gets to be on a lot of the receiving end of my anger, my aggression, my sarcasm, my snideness but she’s never seen the balls to the ball wall anger my partner has seen… my hot, wet, horrible angry tears, my screaming, my phsyical manifestations of anger; at walls, my phone, the glove box, the car seat headrest, my complete lack of ability to communicate properly in any situation where I feel hard done by, under appreciated, treated unfairly or just in a shitty mood. ALL of this is in my own home at worst in the car. My partner is the only person who has seen the truth of me and I suck… hard. 

At work – consummate professional, comments on how calm I am, I’m a teacher so totally loads of opportunities to lose your actual shit. As a mother, love it, all the patience in the world, never could be angry at that little boy. As a partner… I suck. Hard. And last week it reached it’s climax and my partner was done and I don’t blame him, did I mention how much I sucked? I begged and begged and miracles of mircales we’re trying to work it out and we’re on a three month trail basis. We both have shit to change but my biggest thing is my seething, uncontrolled anger at him for nothing more than he didn’t put his dish in the dishwasher. 

So one thing I have to do is write about it, he really likes that idea and so do I! I love writing, have done since I was wee and even did my many brothers’ English creatve writing homework; getting them As and a call back from their teacher asking ‘did you really write this? I teach your sister, you know… and you’ve never put pen to paper before in my class…’ ‘yes sir, my heart and soul went into that story about… ummm…’ So I’m going to vent here and it’ll be whiney and mundane and so the fuck what, I’m channeling my anger so I can have my family, I’m not going to suck as a person, because while I love my little boy, that’s not enough, I want him to grow up in a fun and loving enviroment, not an enviroment where ‘mummy could explode, metaphorically, if I forget to put my dish away.’ 

Disclaimer – my partner is NOT perfect and my anger is amplified with him as he is my best friend who has done some douchey things to me, which have taken root in my soul because I let them and I let those things fuel my ball of anger, even when those chapters have closed, allowing me to justify my angry outbursts. The kicker is, this fuel is no longer viable, I have forgiven (supposedly), I have accepted (supposedly) and I have carried on my relationship with him…. so I need to let these things go… they can no longer be deemed justifiable by me to use as fuel to my fire, because let’s be honest those things in the past have nothing to do with him leaving a fucking dish on the side, it’s a dish, it’s not symbolic of his infidelity that one time or his inability to give a compliment or his douchey ways when he gets drunk. It’s a fucking dish that he forgot to put away. He’s not doing these things to me, he’s untidy and lazy sometimes but he’s also wonderful, kind and generous sometimes too, so let’s remember that for fuck’s sake. 

And yes I am no longer picking up his dishes, he can do it himself and while looking at those dirty dishes erks me, picking up after him like some sort of maid (which I put on my self, as he has never asked or expected me to clean up after him – and holy shit, was coming to that revelation hard enough) made me a lot fucking angrier and we don’t want that. 

Angry, welcome to your new home, I have a life to enjoy. 


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