Apparently, I'm not allowed the luxury of anger. It's been this way all of my life it seems. I get mad, someone makes me stop it. I get mad, someone else gets madder, and blows it all out of proportion. My parents. Certain of my friends. I have a bad temper. I don't deny that. I always have. But I was never allowed to channel it. Only to block it. I grew up repressed, and ended up having people think of me as weak and girly, because instead of getting mad and telling people how I feel, I was taught to repress it by those around me, and so instead, I'd cry. And have occasional panic attacks from the anger I wasn't allowed to express. Or I'd just act loud and stupid and dramatic. Anything to vent something so my temper wouldn't explode and go horribly awry.
I tried to break free. I tried to have an occasionally angry opinion. I tried to voice it without being mean or unkind. I thought I was doing rather well. I was certainly feeling better, less closed up, less panicky.
And then my husband picked up where my parents left off. And lately, my daughter as well. If they do something that displeases me, I apparently can't say so. I'm supposed to just ignore it and hope it goes away. I'm supposed to not have a temper, and instead run around with rainbows and sunshine falling out of my holly jolly ass, no matter how annoying anyone else is. Mind you, they're allowed, especially my daughter, to be angry, Rick is allowed to swear and yell at other drivers on the road, Marcella gets to be angry and aggressive when I ask her to do something, but when I act like a parent, I'm "being very angry". If I yell at other drivers, I'm "making a big deal". Sigh.
If they're not repressing me, someone at work is. Don't be mad, don't voice your frustration, don't rock the boat, stay calm, talk it out with your supervisor. It's never ending.
I guess I'll just give up, and become a passive aggressive milquetoast the rest of my life. Whatever.
Posted by Lysa at May 26, 2009 5:59 PM