Waxing.... emotional responses

To be sure, I am an angry person. Some of it has to come with the way I interpreted instructions as a child. Others to how I have had people respond to any given situation. There are a few tools in my kit that have become very important and have grown to relay upon them.

One of them is being patient, patience is a practiced skill. It is not a gift that one is born with as a virtue. It is a hard fought for skill that gets imparted to others as a gift. Another is listening. Again another fought for practiced skill that gets imparted to others as a gift. So over all it helps me to cultivate a laid back, can ride the waves through a storm type of guy. Layer upon it, some reasonable intelligence and a true gift of being creative and being able to think things through.... but that might be a practiced skill vs. a gift.

Before I dig this entry too deep, and get to the insulting and hurtful parts. I am surrounded by so many people who I love and they love me in return! There is my direct family, my son, my extended family through my ex-wife, a small handful of people who I call my best friends in the world. People who if I got a call to help bury a body. I would be there to remove any finger prints, bring the lye to help with the decomp and shovels. No questions asked. These people mean so much to me. If you are reading this, you know who you are! Thank you for loving me so.

Growing up, something that has reared its ugly head from time to time has been when someone is telling a story about something. This story gets interrupted by the listener with a story of their own. The story kind of relates, but what is unintentionally happening is that the listener is putting down and belittling the story teller with their own story. The unintentional part is that they are wanting to share something to connect, instead of shutting up or reducing their story to a footnote of connection. Sometimes instead of a story it is unwanted advice.

There is a list of things that have happened over the course of my little lifetime. Some are things that I have allowed to happen. Some happened because I was the dutiful son/friend/blah, blah, blah. Some happen because what is never realized is that there was a choice to make. Yes, the choice was made out of love, but even out of the love the decision can go against the person. Anytime a request that starts..."It's for the good of the: family, relationship,... whatever." The answer now is an automatic knee jerk NO. Because what it means in reality is only good for the person stating that sentence. Anger and hurt builds over time. The truth comes out only when it is convenient for that other person.

The past two years have been to say the least a roller coaster of emotions. The diagnosis of colon cancer, treatment and cure. Then in dying of liver cancer all within nine month of a loved father in law. Dealing with the deep emotional grief that occurred and not being able to express my own. The hospitalization of another family member and learning that she has MRSA. The fear of having the house taken away by the mortgage company. My testicular cancer and going through "cancer" a second time in the same house, almost on the same time line. Then again 9 months later moving down to Florida and a month into living here break my ankle.

It is funny. Getting called clumsy hurts. Yes, I was clumsy, slipped and had an accident. I am the one in bed with my legs up on pillows unable to walk so you can make a funny. I let it ride, because it comes from a pure place. I am just grumpy and in pain, also the ones making the joke are loved ones who have severe bone issues ever more so than just a couple of broken bones.

When the diagnosis of testicular cancer was officially made, one request I had was to not say anything to anyone for a couple of days. There was a need to be quiet and absorb. Not less than 24 hour was a phone call full of advice from a woman who is family. I had to stop her in the middle of her diagnostic skills to say that 'I am following what the oncologist says'. In my head, all that is going through the brain is when did you get your MD? When did you continue on to become an oncologist? You can barely take care of yourself! Again it is anger and frustration talking.

It took many years to realize where the anger comes from in my life. It grew out of not having my opinions respected enough to be heard. It grew out of being told to shut up and not rock the boat. It grew out of being wanted. Growing up the best emotional response one would get is a firm handshake.

Anger left unexpressed does grow. It becomes hurtful not only to the person listening, but also to the person who is holding it. The best enemy of anger is active love and compassion. Holding on to that angry child with both arms until the anger and the crying stops. Telling that child that you love them, over and over again until they actually hear and feel it. That child could be 85 years old and still needs to be held and loved.

I am hoping for it to not be so, but I think that I will always be that angry person. When I have a hurt it is an out of place emotional response. The swearing flies frequently and often. Maybe some day there will be someone in my life who will just come and hold me. When something bad happens, there is a grab for my hand to stop the knee jerk reaction. I am told under no uncertain terms that I am loved. The one who will let me rant and rave until it is all out and can once again speak like a normal and calm person.

Ahh... but falling in love with this magical man is a story for another day.

Jude