Beast

Calling someone a beast might feel good in a cheap way, but it’s really imprisoning. Maybe one of the bloggers said that anger was like bondage.  It is.  I’ve been lashing out when I need to be paying more attention to why and what’s going on exactly with me.  I do know what’s going on to an extent but I have to be careful not to look for targets, people who may be obnoxious or intrusive who can conveniently be used as a focus for anger that I have about my own situation.

Yes I called a woman a beast today, and a few days ago I called another woman a fucking asshole.  I don’t yell or scream.  I just say these things matter-of-factly.  And I’m embarrassed to say there have been a couple of other things.  My friend and mentor today told me that I have a controlling personality and that this is why I lashed out and called this woman a beast.  I didn’t approve of her behavior and felt that I had to let her know exactly this.

But I suffer from the who-little-‘ol-me syndrome, maybe.  I never thought I was controlling or even bitchy.  So I never set out to change behavior that might contribute to this because honestly I didn’t know.  I’m trying.  I don’t want to behave this way.  I want to change.

I need to find a new job.  I don’t have medical insurance anymore.  I want to sell more books.  I ain’t getting any younger and I never found a soul mate.  I’m afraid I’ll be homeless and I’m afraid I’ll get sick and have no money.  My job ends in December so the fears ebb and flow.

Forget about today – there’s tomorrow.  I’m grateful I’m not depressed and that I can enjoy my life.  But I’d better be careful.  I live in New York City and I’m not a large person.  My friend reminds me that lashing out at people here can be Russian Roulette.