This has been a weird year for me. Since February, I’ve dealt with more frustration and anger than I have in a long time. It has come and gone in waves, and there is seemingly no rhyme or reason to it. That makes it more difficult to predict and manage as I never know what will set it off; some days, almost nothing will, and other days, almost everything does.
All this emotional uncertainty has made me much prefer quieter folks who spend more time in the present moment. They’re much more comfortable with silence, less likely to interrupt, more likely to ask clarifying questions instead of making assumptions, less likely to perceive intentions that aren’t there, and generally more likely to treat me as I like to be treated. Unfortunately, they are also incredibly rare, so I’ve spent a lot of time by myself these past few months.
My solitude has been a blessing rather than a curse. I’m so sick of being around folks who seemingly have no emotional intelligence. I hate automatically being given advice, especially when I didn’t ask for it. Most of those who give advice have nothing useful to offer; the less they know about a situation, the more advice they have to give and the worse is the quality of their advice. I’d much prefer someone who knows that I feel upset ask what kind of support I’d like and then, if they can, give it to me. Most of the time, though, I prefer being alone so I can work through emotions on my own terms, but I do sometimes find value in describing what’s happening to someone who listens with the intent to understand. Since almost nobody I know does that, I almost never tell anyone when I feel upset. When I do, they usually attempt to downplay my emotions, get me to “look on the bright side”, or otherwise try to make me do what they think I *should* do. Whether intentionally or not, they are attempting to draw me away from feeling through my emotions, which is the only thing that has made me feel better after a painful experience. I’ve dealt with all of that negative interference most of my life, it’s always made me feel worse, and I’m done with it.
I’m also tired of being around those who are quick to take offense or who act offended even if they’re not. I can’t tell the difference between genuine and imaginary offense, and either scenario is deeply unpleasant for myriad reasons. Further, they, along with those who compulsively give advice, also tend to dump all their gossip, rude opinions, and bad experiences on me without first getting my permission to use me as a human garbage can. No more of that.
For much of this year, my mindset was similar to that of George Carlin’s. I even got some enjoyment out of seeing things more along those lines. Recently, my perspective shifted after I watched this video on Henry David Thoreau. Thoreau’s approach seems a lot better suited to my demeanor and goals, plus his outlook appears to be much more positive than Carlin’s. I think I can get a similar experience to Thoreau’s without building and living in a cabin in the woods as he did.
This perspective shift has been crucial. I don’t think I could have entertained the negative outlook for much longer without getting into a bad place. Way too many humans push their pain onto others, especially when they’re in exceptionally bad moods. While I’ve done plenty of that in my life, over the last year, I’ve mostly succeeded at keeping my pain to myself rather than dragging anyone else down to the level of my worst moods. Sometimes that means I stay home and other times it means I hardly socialize even when I do go out. I’d rather act aloof than snap at someone I care about.
I’m certain that two major things have influenced my approach to all of this. The first is how, regardless of when I go to bed and how much sleep I get, I’ve woken up feeling exhausted almost every morning for almost a month now (although my sleep has been much better the past few days, which has also greatly improved my mood). The second is that the one-year anniversary of my dog Sawyer’s death is quickly approaching. I spent most of last year crying and feeling sad after Sawyer died. While I still feel sad much of the time, I only cry on occasion at this point, and I feel frustrated and angry more often than I feel depression or deep sorrow. I chalk all of that up to honoring my emotions as much as I have and having successfully worked through the most painful emotions. I hope that getting better at welcoming anger, frustration, and the like will allow me to pass through this stage and onto greater peace.