I’m not a nutcase, I’ve just developed some handy, protective behavior layers. They had served me well (so said delusion and denial) for the years that I thought I needed them. It looks like it may be time for some laundry again. Metaphysical laundry.
Anger comes easy to me and I have learned that I am a type of person who cannot afford it. I understand the argument that anger is a survival tool and can be very useful, but I would like to call it an inappropriate method for me handling my issues. For starters, when I identify feeling frustrated, it tends to actually be that I am afraid of something. I guess subconsciously (or not so) I am one of those folk who deem being or feeling frightened as unbecoming, immature or worst: unmanly.
Smokey once told Joe: “What other people think of you is none of your fucking business.”
That always stings for a moment, then lifts me up. I liken it to getting beaned with a life preserver.