Wow… this week started with a bang in the “no self control” department. Anger and I have been friends for a long time, but it’s been awhile since it’s visited so frequently. Of course, the fact that we’ve been hanging out again is probably due to anger’s co-conspirator, frustration, as well as a healthy visit by insomnia (which, by the way, still refuses to leave).
Let me tell you, frustration and lack of sleep are not conducive to a peaceful attitude. I woke up Monday morning growling, and didn’t stop growling for several hours. A seriously intense conversation with myself was as futile as picking dandelions one by one to get them out of your yard. They just grow back and multiply.
I growled at my computer – literally. Forget user error; it was doing things I certainly hadn’t told it to do. I, the big bad wolf, huffed and puffed at my mind that refused to focus, children that refused to behave, and family that just would not be convenient. I’d have thrown a temper tantrum and stomped my foot if my ankle hadn’t decided two days earlier to be full of pain.
Oh, my, yes. Aren’t I grown up.
Well… maybe I’ve grown a bit. I’m no longer taking my anger and frustration out on walls, which my hand continues to thank me for. I don’t yell at my kids without cause anymore. Deep breaths often restore the inner peace I’ve begun to experience and enjoy. That’s progress… of a sort.
What I find funny – as in ironic – is the way I feel now has nothing to do with being an adult. What I’m feeling now is impatient, stubborn, petulant… irritable. I feel like I’ve fallen into a thorn bush and the thorns are poking me from the inside out. My lungs stopped working as they’re supposed to a few months ago and have yet to go back to normal. At odd times, my heart decides to trip and slam in my chest, scaring the crap out of me, before settling back into its normal rhythm with a sly, “just kidding,” attitude.
I know why I feel the way I do. I’m in a situation that I can’t just burst out of and change, no matter how badly I want to (and I want to very badly). I have to wait for things to change. In other words, I have to be… drum roll please… patient. Patient and me, well, we haven’t hung out near as much as my old friend anger. Why, we’re hardly on speaking terms at all.
What I don’t know is what to do about it – the feelings, I mean. I don’t like feeling this way: irritable, frustrated, and hardheaded. Even my thoughts are snapping at themselves. They’re liked caged, wild animals that haven’t fed for months. Starving, and not very nice.
I tell God, “I’m sorry, Father. I’m trying.”
To which I’m sure He responds much like my parents. “Very, but that’s alright.”
There is one great, big, giant consolation in all of this. “This, too, shall pass.”
Eventually, God willing, the dam will burst, the situation will change, and I’ll be able to breathe again (maybe). My heart will (probably) go back to its normal behavior, although I’m not taking any bets. Not too far in the distant future, I’ll be able to relax (sort of). Who knows? I might even start sleeping again (I hope). You never know how much you enjoy something like sleep until you can’t. I’d like to be friends with sleep.
Until then, well, I guess I’ll give that patience thing a try. Maybe it’s not so bad once you get the hang of it. Maybe it’s time self-control and I became friendlier, too. Our friendship is tenuous, at best, but I’m sure it can be cultivated.
I will not throw a temper tantrum.
I will not throw a temper tantrum.
I will not throw a temper tantrum…
*growl* I’m going to go read.
(Pre-publish update: Came across a great post by ~jOyce entitled Sometimes It’s Good to Not Know. I see the possibilities of the near future; it’s beautiful and bright. If I can just hold on a little longer and, as Joyce puts it, “open the gift of every single day,” I’ll be alright. Okay… deep breath time aaaaaand patience!)