Why are you here again? You could save this for tomorrow.
Nope, we say this now.
Part of my task this week, in order to keep ball rolling down several literary lanes, is the novel that was started 18 years ago. I need 50 pages complete to a standard, and then a synopsis of the rest, neither of which is particularly stressful. Sitting with the manuscript today, I was suddenly struck by a moment of irreversible clarity. This piece was the moment everything changed in my head the first time. It has taken that long, and a fair deal of pointless thrashing about, to get to Stage Two.
HERE right now is the moment I channel Mr Tennant, knowing exactly why.
It’s the anger at people who arrange contests but can’t fucking use software properly to tell you they aren’t interested. It’s the outdated and antiquated means by which everybody else judges you when all that really matters is how you feel in yourself. It’s self-centred receptionists and arrogant gym staff who don’t realise you can see them lying through their teeth and then it is the 100% cast iron certainty all this shit is true and you’re not paranoid or delusional.
How do I know this? Because the lovely, genuine people are beacons, touchstones and markers. The helpful individual who cares, the organisation not doing this for the reach or your mutuals, the artists who deserve both your time and cash. When held up against the lying, arrogant scumbags of this world, genuine people are a joy. They don’t treat you differently, you’re you. That’s great and brilliant and so, you can let the anger go now… except I won’t.
I know why.
Change did used to be the enemy. Anything that was sudden or unexpected would ruin everything well-organised and carefully planned. Except now, it is quite restful to forget my phone on the School Run and be able to doodle expletives in my notebook instead. As it happens there was also some decent poetry in there, but that’s beside the point. Yesterday’s lesson is well learnt: nothing complicated before basic consciousness can be tested. Keep quiet, don’t be clever. Work to your strengths.
It is time to write these things down as they happen: part of me knows I should have done this 18 years ago, and if it had so much progress would now not be lost to fate. It isn’t going to happen again, this time we fix as much as possible, but one thing at a time. No good will result from trying to cover everything simultaneously. There needs to be an issue identified, then explored before it is tackled. Today, and probably until I hear from the therapy assessment person, we will deal with angry, because I am and it is fucking GLORIOUS.
I get emotional quite a lot, always have. Once it would have been considered as Irish temper, and maybe you still could, but it is more likely that these responses stem from a deep-seated dislike of other people manipulation and arrogance. Some of it is indeed rooted in my mental shortcomings, and there are multiple spots which could be considered as affected by childhood trauma, inner child issues and simple disbelief of the stupidity and laziness around me.
All these points can be identified, and by doing so in the last couple of days its been the equivalent of that To Do list that is written knowing one thing is the hardest of all, and you’ll do anything to avoid going there. Everything else is crossed off. Only one thing remains. I’m angry at myself for letting all this go on for so long without addressing the bigger issues, that other people take advantage of my generosity and that I’m far too lazy for my own good.
Writing that down makes everything suddenly seem so much easier.
So, how do we stop feeling angry? We don’t. It happens when it does, everything that was causing it to trigger is acknowledged before the most stupid shit gets dealt with. I do an extra Blaze Class a week and get over myself, there’s more focus on exercising to enjoy it and not consider any of this torture, and I stop typing and go in the shed for a bike ride.
The underlying issues are now identified. Time to do the work.