IT hasn’t happened in a while. The rage. Not for a long while. It did, however, strike last week.
I’ve managed to remain remarkably Zen-like for years now but then something funny happened.
I started to feel angry, all the time.
It wasn’t like your usual rational, explainable anger. No, this was the slow-brewing manic feeling which sticks to your gut and lasts for days and days and days. Actually I shouldn’t speak in the past tense because I still have it but I now feel I am able to cope and have adjusted my life accordingly mainly by scowling at people with a warning look which says “it is within me”.
I remember the exact moment it triggered. It was five days ago when I caught a glimpse of myself in a full-length mirror after getting out of the pool. That was the start. It escalated from there.
Obviously, the reason for the rage is not manic depression, clearly, I am aware it is that thing with which women are cursed I can’t even bear to mention its name such is my dislike of it.
Knowing the reason behind the rage didn’t make it any less enraging, by the way, if anything it made it worse for reasons unknown to myself.
As previously mentioned this has not happened for years, it used to happen mind you, on a regular basis, but then I just copped on and grew out of it because it was an exhausting rollercoaster to be on once a month.
And so when it came back, quite unexpectedly, I was caught off guard. Shocked I was, shocked to say the very least. Anyway, the run-in with the full-length mirror was the catalyst and I stomped home in a tizz cursing my love of food and bemoaning the fact that I’m not anorexic. Yeah, yeah whatever I know it’s terrible to be anorexic yahdahyahdahyahdah but like come on, it’d be brilliant for about two weeks until you keeled over from lack of sustenance.
For the rest of the evening I just generally stomped about the place growling at inanimate objects and kicking things. Oh no…. disaster, another disaster has occurred. I’ve just seen pictures of abandoned puppies. Oh no. Tears ahoy all aboard the weepy train!
Four little puppies were viciously, cruelly, abandoned on the side of the River Barrow in Milford, Co Carlow. Who would abandon puppies like that?
Oh their little faces! Monsters whoever did this! What if someone put you into a box and dumped you at the side of the river? How would you like that, pals? Not much I’d say.
I shall start some sort of animal rights association, specifically aimed at saving the lives of dogs and cats (well… hmmm… maybe not cats) who have been set aside like pieces of garbage and left to die.
I shall call it “The Dog and Cat (but only maybe) Rescue Association”. Honestly, the world baffles me. The rage is back.
At this stage I’ll admit I’m more than weary of the highs and lows. I wish to return to my previous Zen-like state because the situation is beginning to affect my personal life.
Obviously there is only one person in the firing line – he who is blessed to go out with me.
I do understand, of course, that he is but an innocent bystander in this entire sorry situation. But hey, why go out with someone if you can’t bite the head off them when you’ve got the rage?
It’s not like I beat him with a stick or anything.
Although he did put his foot down last night when he said: “I hope you’re not coming down (to Cork) this weekend if you’re going to be a bitch”.
I was like “Hello, I am not a bitch” to which he boldly replied, “Yes you are. You’ve spent the last week constantly moaning, complaining and acting like a spoilt cow.”
“Yeah WHAT.EVER,” I said, “I’ll be good.”
I will be good too, right after I put salt in his coffee.
Adieu.