About releasing anger

From yesterday afternoon I was having intermitent issues with the internet. Psychological torture style. It was working for like 5-10 min perfectly and then 5-10 min – even 30 min, not working at all.

So, now, that it seems to work decently and I’m pretty calm and in peace, I decided to write about all the things I hate. An astrological reference for the connoisseurs: I have Mercury in Capricorn square Mars in Libra. I think everyone with a square to Mars has or has had anger issues at a point in their life. And disclaimer: no, trying to make someone confront them intentionally is not a solution, is just plain stupidity. So, I admit guilty as charged.

One. I hate it when I keep getting interrupted, when I am concentrated on something and someone/something keeps bugging me. When I was working in Bucharest in open space, there was a guy who was passing by our area from time to time and each time he had something with me and he was shouting my name, apparently just to say hi.

One time, I was very concentrated because I had an additional task with several more complicated steps and I had to make sure I’m doing them all correctly, from the first time. I was having my headsets on, to neutralise the background noise. This time he came by and besides shouting my name he also shook my chair intentionally to distract me. And I screamed at him and said some bad words. My team-lead was just next to me and of course, I was the one with “the issues”, not him, nobody saw what he did, while passing through our project area where he had no business.

When I moved to Prague, he contacted me on the internal messenger and complained that I didn’t give any signs of life after I left, that I forgot about the Bucharest people. I felt so much disturbed and irritated that I told him he is an idiot.

That’s why I like it so much to work from home. From 2014, I have never missed the office space. What I like the most is that I can sing to de-stress myself and nobody has nothing against it (because nobody is hearing me).

Anyway… Now, I know, I am a mom. So I’m sucking this up… when the baby is in my care, I know I will never be able to concentrate on anything…

Two. I hate the keyboard of this smartphone because I hate it when I want a letter but my finger is touching a different one. I hate it when I’m trying to post something on Facebook but the button to publish is right over the keyboard area and it always gets pressed accidentally when I have just half of status written.

Three. I hate it when things fall. I desperately hate when I’m hanging a towel after drying my hands and it falls. Or everything else that I’m putting somewhere up and then it falls. In my head. As if something is intentionally throwing it back at me. I’m comforting myself with the idea that is the Earth’s rotation force that is making things, in apparent balance, to fall out of the blue.

Right about two years ago, my parents came to visit and meet the new baby and mom brought us 3 jars of zacusca made entirely by her. I opened one and put it in the fridge when I was done. Then I wanted to take a pot out from the fridge and somehow it took the shelf with it, which fell down with everything, so the zacusca jar broke and we had to clean all the pieces and the mess. The next day I opened another one. Guess what? Exactly the same thing happened. That was when I literally snapped. Rage everywhere.

The cause? I had washed the fridge and apparently I put the shelves buttons upside down, because I didn’t know they have a way to be put. Before that, Leo was helping me and I was washing and drying them and he was putting them back and he knows how, because it’s his fridge. So of course, the rage came from guilt, from blaming myself that I’m not even capable of that simple thing.

The next time when they came, I was sitting in the office chair and I was swinging and leaning back when I was talking with them. My dad kept telling me that I will fall with the chair. There was a thing, actually, it was not supposed to go that much in the back, someone must’ve tried to do something to it. And eventually I fell with it. And I fell with it, backwards, right over my left arm, which I almost broke… My luck was that I didn’t hit my head on the margin of the door from the pantry.. Rage? No… the pain was too much this time, that it absorbed it completely.

The previous weekend I broke the bathroom window, while trying to release the rage through closing it. I was very lucky that absolutely no shards jumped on my hands or on my face, but I spent 3 hours on a sunday morning cleaning it up… I then consciously suffered for the whole week, letting each emotion pass through me when I was seeing that broken window.

Four. Any type of loud repeated noises when the baby sleeps: machines of cutting grass, dogs barking, people talking loudly around (at the phone), dishes bumping in the sink, our shower robinet when you turn it on and off several times in the same session (I’m not exaggerating, it’s making this horrible low vibration resonance noise)…

Now the things that calm me down. The instant relief, 100% success rate, is if someone is telling me a good joke, so I brake by laughing. But it has to be something not related to me, you cannot say something that would screw a knife in a previous wound because it would make me even more angry.

Another relief is if someone else takes the anger for me. If I see that there is someone else next to me angrier than me, I instantly take the role of the comforter, to calm the other person down by lowering my voice and opening my arms wide to hug her and provide love and understanding. But I first need to see the rage outside of me, I cannot calm myself down by this method.

Methods that would calm myself down… depending on the level of irritation that I have, like for how long I have been boiling it up inside, and if the cause is just mental and/or also organic (insulin spike, PMS, migraine, congested nose) or physic (I’m extremely sensitive to cold) I try to detach from the triggering issue. If it’s not a life/death situation, in which case the adrenaline would kick in and force me to act first on the most urgent thing, I try to just freeze and breathe and literally imagine how all the tasks that have been crowding in my mind are slowly separating from eachother, in order to tackle them calmly one by one.

If the level of irritations gets too high, like full blown rage, usually in the late evening when I am also half-asleep… I… I honestly cannot share this on my blog. By letting it out I may have destroyed some things and said things on a very loud voice that I’m not at all proud of. And I would usually hurt myself than to hurt someone else, like hitting with the fist on the wall or intentionally making a very loud powerful noise, like intentionally letting to fall on a marble floor a metal pot cover.

And I totally understand and I support everyone’s right to ask for help. Please ask for professional help, if you have no friends or family available and capable of providing the needed help. There is no shame to ask for help, recommended before you do things that you would regret.

I understand that 100% of us had a different version of the parent that they would be, before they actually had kids.

When we created those expectations about ourselves we didn’t take into account this acute lack of sleep, that turned into post-traumatic-stress, accumulated from the time when the baby was waking up screaming for food every 1.5/2h day and night, this never-ending guilt that no matter what we are doing we would never feed our kids the best foods on the market and provide them with the best educational entertainment or with enough love and attention that we think they need.

I would offer myself to help and send energy to whoever needs it, but 99% of the time is the baby who needs it from me and most of the time this is just a one-way street, until she learns how to express herself. We are making significant progress everyday to understand each others needs, she is now at the stage when I ask her what I think she would want/need and she is shaking her head like yes or no. But she cannot resist jumping in a good muddy puddle no matter how nicely dressed she is.

So five: that muddy puddle that is forming next to our gate each time it rains and we were not yet capable of properly covering it up.

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