I’m angry. I feel pushed by kids, pushed by exes – and above all, pushed by myself, my relentless self.
And yet, when I try to take a (composed? Nah, not really, I couldn’t flatter myself to that extreme) look at my anger, I end up unable to direct it in any particular direction. Angry at kids for being talked into overnight stays away and late nights out – yes. Angry at exes for being kept waiting, ignored and not responded to at all – yes. Angry at myself for…everything I have suffered hitherto and everything I fear I will suffer from now on – yes. But all these angers are based on fear, built on fear and fuelled by fear.
I fear my kids won’t have me pegged as a good parent, a fun parent, a considerate and understanding parent if I don’t say “Yes” every now and then. Particularly if the question asked is phrased in such a way that it “helps” a friend. I mean as in “He’d be all on his own if I didn’t…”, “Please, because she’s got no one else…” Oh, Dragonmamp to the rescue! Help all the other poor, misunderstood children out there, and coincidentally please your own while you’re at it.” Responding “No, So-and-So will just have to manage on their own tonight” or “Yes, I understand So-and-So will be bored if you don’t go there, but we were actually looking forward to your company at home tonight” just doesn’t have the same “matey-‘coz-I-underSTAND” ring about it…
Requesting information from my ex, now, that’s another chapter out of the same book. If I ask more than once, I fear I’ll be perceived as nagging. Not understanding. Bitchy and downright demanding. At the same time, I ask myself what could possibly be perceived as more bitchy, uncompassionate and downright demanding than asking for a divorce – so, really, what do I have to lose? That horse has already bolted, but since I still care for my ex and wish to be supportive and certainly not to inflict any more pain or confusion, I’m still pitter-pattering around trying to be delicate, which means most attempts at gaining information (about things that actually concern me) go either unanswered or reluctantly and minimalistically answered at a much later date.
Looking at what I’ve just written, I suppose in the end my fear makes me behave in ways that’s almost bound to give rise to anger. No wonder I can’t tell where I’m coming from. All I can do is tell where I’m heading towards: Harmony. Balance. Peace of mind. I’m heading towards a state where I’m neither ruled by fear nor by anger, but by presence, integrity and a deep sense of worth. And in the middle of all this confusion, I’m safe, because at least I know where I’m headed.