I have been dealing, not very well, with waves of anger lately. Anger, frustration, ingratitude, freak outs, and fantasies of punching people in the face. And since my chronic nose bleeds have been acting up this week I look like I've been in a fist fight most days.
Maybe there is some PMS in the mix. I would guess that to be true, since my fury has been accompanied by strangling desperation for chocolate and french fries. But hormones cannot completely account for this bout of If-I-Don't-Get-Away-From-You-I-Will-Scream-Or-Deck-You feeling that I feel towards almost everyone, including voices on the phone at work.
So this job hasn't turned out to be anything at all what I thought it would be. Kind of like a mind bogglingly elaborate bait and switch. Raleigh is beautiful, and I love our (still not completely unpacked) apartment and the flowers and the gardens. And there is just a tiny thread of hope that my job could improve tremendously if certain things could just be overhauled. But if you've ever worked for a not-for-profit, you know that you could hold your breath for change for years and not see anything come to fruition. So I struggle with anger and disappointment. Did I really move us across the country for this? Leave all of our friends, our church, our Lake, our City for this? For a pay cut, for several thousand dollars of moving expenses? For more expensive insurance? For paying out nearly 5 months of the rest of our Chicago lease? And then I layer on anger for being angry about money. It's just money, right? We have everything we need and then some. We took a risk, we felt that we were supposed to come here, and we did. And maybe we've just finally been away long enough to start cultivating some real homesickness. But even that cannot account for all this nasty bile churning around.
I want to punch things! Scream! I have worked most of my adult life with volunteers, but the last few weeks of answering phone calls, typing the same email 45 times a day, and listening to people get upset over things like rain delays and their arms being too long for their free t-shirt has settled a little black rain cloud over my head. And my smiles and nods and "I understand"s have been masking a small whirlwind of fury.
I DON'T UNDERSTAND. Not even a little bit.
Especially when I start to get riled up about the ridiculousness of any of my own complaints. I have clean water, a lovely place to live, a husband and the cutest dog ever. I have friends who love me, an awesome family, a job that pays me actual money and covers a good chunk of my health care. I eat TOO MUCH. I have unlimited access to lattes if I choose. My colleagues are terrific, and we muddle through every day with laughter and the occasional veiled shriek. Read down a list of "First World Problems" and remember how much of my angst is shameful.
Get some good tertiary emotions going, and feel guilty for not feeling more of that shame I should be feeling for being ungrateful.
Comparison is the thief of joy. Right? In either direction. I compare my life to people who love their jobs, have beautiful children that they wanted to have since they were little girls themselves, or ANYONE who clearly hears the Lord directing their lives and vocation, and I feel cheated somehow. Or compare myself to people who are struggling, suffering, and in need and I feel weighed down with guilt. Or the guilt of not feeling guilty enough.
And I can tell myself that if I stopped ranting long enough, maybe I would be able to hear the Lord's voice more clearly. If I got my head out of my butt and stopped being a whiny, ungrateful brat, I would have a lot more energy for loving people and maybe find myself actually acting rather than complaining.
How long do you have to tell yourself that before your heart starts to change? How many nosebleeds does it take?
I keep thinking about a line from a Nickel Creek song:
I climb high to the highest rung
Shake fists at the sky
Others have excuses
I have my reasons why
Grrrr......GRRR!!!
Anyway. There it is. A rant, a cry for help, a venting of steam, a deep and heavy sigh.
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