I keep trying to say it’s something else. That there is reason and justice at the heart of it. That I’m anxious or frustrated. That theres an excusable, tired, busy kind of explanation. But it’s not true. Not really. I’m just mad.
And I can find all kinds of people and situations to blame for my mad-ness. You don’t do as you say. This one doesn’t follow through. That one lies. There is great injustice in my little world and our great big wide world, and no one seems to be doing anything about it! No one cares, but me!
Hmmm…that’s a lie too. Perhaps I’m mad at how much is out of my control. Perhaps I’m mad at how hard it is to not have expectations met. Perhaps…perhaps I’m mostly mad at myself. Perhaps that’s the only thing I can actually do anything about.