So, a disclaimer at the very beginning: I am in the smack-middle of a grave shift at work, and I am feeling a bit rambling and whiny. So, if you dare, by all means, continue reading. If not, I totally understand!
So, for the past few months, I have noticed something. Not a really great something, but, oh well. I think it is probably no big secret that I have a fairly short fuse and I let my temper get the best of me FAR TOO OFTEN. But, the last little while, I think it just might be even worse than usual. Honestly, what is my problem? I can remember when I was a little kid, and I hated my Dad's ill-tempered outbursts. Before I go on, let me make this absolutely clear right now- I love my Dad, I ADORE my Dad. He is amazing. He has made some truly inspiring changes in his life, but when I was a kid, his temper was not pleasant by any means. I remember how much I hated the feeling of uncertainty- the whole "Is today a yelling/screaming kind of day? Is Dad in a bad mood?" tension and worrying. And I promised myself that if I ever had children of my own, I would not repeat that pattern of behavior. Guess what? I lied. I have a rotten temper, a short fuse, and a (seemingly) total incapacity for recognizing the ranting until it has passed.
Does anyone else ever have days (or weeks, or years...) when they feel that they are making the same mistake over and over and over and over again? Is it just me? Honestly, I sometimes feel like I am continually trying to work on and correct the same imperfections. What am I doing wrong? Am I a failure? Am I a hopeless adult-temper-tantrum-thrower? I think I might have allowed myself to become the worst version of myself. I am sitting here, and I can recall so many times when I have lost my temper and yelled at the kids (many times when I can't recall what they did that was so awful), and, well, pretty much acted just like a kid myself, and I am scared to death. Do my kids fear my temper as much as I feared my Dad's? Are my kids in their room scared of when I will erupt next? Do they wonder, in the middle of one of my idiotic tirades, if I still like and love them? I guess I could play the victim card, and blame my temper on a myriad of things: the genetic pre-disposition bit; the "I have 3 kids and it's so hard" bit; the "I work graveyards and I'm so tired" bit; the "I'm an unappreciated wife and mother" bit; and so on and so on. But really, so what? "Personality" genetics are such a small part of who we truly are; people all over the world have 3, or more, kids; people all over the world work graveyard shifts; and what wife and mother doesn't feel unappreciated from time to time? And.....? See what I mean? What is my problem?
To be honest, my kids are actually really quite GOOD. They have their moments when they do truly act their age, but all things considered, they are very good kids. I have not experienced many of the trials and tribulations that I so frequently hear about with other kids, and I don't think that any of my kids' "issues" would warrant a meeting with Dr. Phil. Why am I such an impatient nightmare?
I realize that many of us are usually our own worst critics, and that may be true, but sometimes, don't you think the worst critics just may have it right? I mean, sometimes the crappy review of a movie is accurate- the movie really did stink. Sometimes the harsh assessment of a particular job or project may be an accurate assessment. So, sometimes, maybe we really are accurate critics of ourselves. And by "we" I am really meaning "I." I truly do have a bad temper. I truly do allow it to get the best of me far too often. I truly do. That is not harsh, it is truth. Sometimes the truth hurts, right? Truth. Ouch. Sometimes, I really like lies. Sometimes self-deception seems pretty good.
I am not really an optimist at all, in fact, I am a definite pessimist (or Realist) to whom the glass is ALWAYS half-empty. And even if it was half-full, the glass would likely be full of poison or something, so just let it be. I mean, if it was something good, why would it have anything left in it at all? It would be totally empty, right? Anyway, as a pessimist, it is very difficult for me to think this, let alone post it, but I have come to develop a great fondness for a particular part of a movie. In "The Lord of the Rings" movie (I forget if it's the 1st, 2nd or 3rd- I'm really sleepy), there is a part where Arwen's father Elrond is trying very hard to convince her that there is nothing ahead for her in life except pain and despair and sadness, that there is no hope. To which Arwen responds, "There is always hope." Really an optimistic response if I ever heard one, and not one to which I would normally be drawn, but it gets to me. Mostly I think more along the lines of Elrond, you know, doom-and-gloom and despair all around and all that, but Arwen's response really affects me. Maybe deep down, buried deep inside my impatient and nightmarish heart, there is a tiny little beacon of optimism desperately trying to light the darkness of pessimism and doubt. Maybe I dearly wish that there is hope for me, and for my crappy temper. My instant pessimism kicks in and tells me that there is nothing but sadness and pain, that I have a bad temper, and I will never learn to control it, and yet, her words get to me. Deeply. I don't know, really.
All I do know is that my temper scares me sometimes, and if that is the case, then it must certainly scare my children sometimes, even if they don't come right out and say so. I dearly and desperately wish that I could go back in time, and tell myself that my kids are truly wonderful and sweet and delightful, and that at no time in the near or distant future will there be justifiable cause for me to lose my temper at them, or because of them. The pessimist, or realist, in me knows that is just not possible. So, then what? What can I do? Telling myself to stop getting so angry and "yelly and screamy" is not working out, believe me. Assuring myself that the kids are sweet is not working. Nothing is working.
"There is always hope." Yeah, right.
Optimism, meet your master, Realism; also known as Pessimism, Doom-and-Gloom, Despair, Heartbreak, and Self-Loathing.
Anyway, if you have ventured this deep into this post, I did try to warn you at the beginning, so you can't blame me if you are sad at having lost a few minutes of your life reading it. Yep, those were five minutes you'll never reclaim.
