Being an Angry Person

Out of the many categories of human, I sit comfortably as an angry one.

My anger is a quiet anger; a deeply aggressive frustration that is disguised by a facade of “chillness” and an innocent face.

I recognize this because,

A. I am wildly moody.

B. Nobody beyond my psychologist has ever recognized me as a so-called “angry person”.

C. In the 5th grade, I was put in the “Hot Heads” group at Sanders Corner Elementary School. I was pulled out of class once a week to sit with other angry children who were also forced by their parents to address their rage. I was introduced to two very important life concepts in this group: therapy and stress balls.

The source of my angers runs far back, to the early days of my childhood. But ultimately, it rests in a long list of things I can’t change, including:

  1. Traumatic memories
  2. The place I grew up
  3. Having a mental illness
  4. The moments I have let people take advantage of me
  5. The moments I have taken advantage of other people
  6. Whether or not someone is attracted to me
  7. My bone structure(I learned after quite a bit of research how expensive and possibly fatal hip bone shaving, leg shrinking, and breast reduction could be<—Yes, I know boobs aren’t bones).
  8. Shallow or mean things I have said to other people
  9. Shallow or mean things I have been told
  10. All of the times I have picked self-loathing and self-hatred over self-love
  11. The time I made fun of my sister on the after-school daycare bus for having a pig nose(This involved snorting)
  12. The first 18 years of my life that I was an Emetophobic(phobia of vomit)
  13. That I can’t live up to my basic bitch potential and drink vanilla lattes on a brisk fall day (without inducing intense inner shaking and heartburn)
  14. All of the times I have ruined my food by over-salting, over-cooking or over-saucing
  15. Essentially, any decision I have ever made up until this moment
  16. Essentially, any thought I have ever had up until this moment

I directed my anger toward genetic biology, for giving me an awkward body; toward my family members, for causing me pain; and pretty aggressively toward myself, for saying and doing dumb shit as a result.

When you leave your life as a minor and are catapulted into society as a young adult, you are essentially a baby all over again and are forced to restart the annoyingly tedious process of self-assessment.

This has occurred over the last several years. Part of this self-assessing has included discovering that I am an angry person, which I had never previously considered myself to be. At least, it wasn’t a character trait that I included at the top of my dating profile.

The truth is that, in general, the list of things I can’t change is significantly longer than the list of things that I can.

If I can’t change them, though, what is the point in wasting the energy getting angry about it, Lauren? <—-Note to self: Make a stupid sign that says this and put it above my bed.

Fortunately, there are always things that I can change, like:

  1. How I communicate with other people from this point forward
  2. The degree to which I choose self-love over self-loathing
  3. How I treat my body
  4. What I choose to do with my life at any moment past this one
  5. Embracing the things I can’t change
  6. Recognizing my blessings and being grateful for them
  7. My reactions to essentially everything
  8. Making the positive lists longer than the negative ones in all future blog posts

While I face the fact that I am just a small speck of awkward existence in a big, bad world that I have no control over, I choose to channel my inner rage into activities such as keeping my indoor plants alive, sparingly using the right swipe on Tinder and convincing myself why I should stray away from a life as a lesbian Sugar Baby.

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