I’ve been dealing with some anger lately. Although I have suspicions about it being related to my cycle and change in diet, I am also aware and a little nervous that it’s not proportionate.
Fully aware of the fact that a little anger is normal, the only reason I’m concerned is that I seem to be attracting situations and moments wherein I am put to a test to control my response.
In the last year I’ve had two drunk idiots start shit with me in a bar. Both were men, and I was sober both times just trying to play a game of pool with my brother. Last Friday as I was walking back to my parking garage from Downtown and realized they might be locking the parking facility I was hurrying along the sidewalk walking briskly with purpose but not quite running.
Three people were taking up the whole width of the walkway and I tried for couple of blocks to get around them. Two guys and a woman who had evidently had enough to be a belligerent bitch. Each time I tried to pass they would end up blocking my path until finally the littlest guy felt bad and ran ahead to let me pass.
“That’s right. You go on ahead.” She said with a smarmy challenge.
Both guys looked at her with irritation and I smiled sweetly and replied. “Thank you.”
So I passed and the group tailed me, the faster I walked the faster they moved up behind me, all the while she made sly comments about stupid people and bitches out alone at night. Finally, I turned. “Are you talking to me?”
She raised her eyebrows in shock and dramatically put a hand across her chest. “No. Why would I be talking to you? I don’t even know you.” They guys shuffled nervously.
At the next street I turned left on Madison to get to the parking garage, “That’s right bitch, turn left. Get the fuck off my street!”
I turned back toward her with absolute fury. “Shut up, you cunt and get yourself home to bed. You wouldn’t win a fight with me even IF you were sober.”
Wisely, the two guys grabbed her arms and rushed her down the street, presumably to someplace where she won’t be making trouble for anyone.
I made it to the parking garage just before they locked the gate, and on the way home I pondered… am I putting off some kind of energy that is bringing that shit to me? I don’t remember it being so common before… and yet, really when I think back I have always had the rose-colored glasses and thought, “oh, she wasn’t talking to me” or the zen approach of “blessed be, because Karma is going to fuck you up so I won’t have to” or worse yet – historically, I would ignore it and run away and take it personal and cry about it at home.
So honestly, it’s not more than it ever has been – I’m just tired of letting people get away with stupid shit. Furthermore, my fight or flight is moving away from the flight and more to the fight. I’m still not sure if this is bad or not.
There was a incident the week before as I was waiting for the Hawthorne bridge to go down. Three blocks of backed up traffic ahead of me, and five more in my rearview mirror. The car in front of me was stopped so as to not block the intersection and the lady in the car behind me started revving her engine and creeping forward. She’d creep and rev and creep and rev and beep her horn and creep and rev… I remember thinking as I watched her in the rearview, “where does she think she’s going to go?”
Then she hit me. Freya lurched and my body flooded with RAGE! “Ohnoyoudidn’t!”
Yanking the e-brake I got out and slammed the door and charged to her window. The bitch was still talking on her cell phone when I started screaming. No yelling or talking logically, but screaming with enough anger that my whole body shook.
“If you want to get around me so bad, get out of your fucking car and walk! Get off your fucking phone and walk, bitch! How dare you ram me! The bridge is up! WE CAN’T GO ANYWHERE!”
She caved immediately and began stammering, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t think you were that close.” Then she had the nerve to ask, “I’m in such a hurry do you think you could move up so I can go around?”
I screamed some more and about the time I thought about dragging her through her open window… I closed my mouth and exhaled.
The woman two cars over was laughing hysterically as I stormed back to my car, legs shaking too bad to work the clutch. The bridge closed and I went home, curled up on the couch, terrified by my own level of anger. “Until I figure out what that was… I’m not leaving the house.”
It could be that I’m disproportionately angry. It could be that I am attracting it to my experience. It could also be that I’m not ignoring it anymore just hoping it will go away. It could be that I’m tired of feeling bullied by ignorant drunks, or people who feel like their needs and agendas are more important than my basic right to be left alone.
Maybe it is a proportionate reaction. Maybe not.
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