6.2.12

 

"So, how do you feel today?"

"Fine, and you?"

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you."

"So what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Seems you had quite the explosive episode this morning, fist clenching and profanity, etc."

"Ya."

"Well, heaven knows you're not six years old anymore. What was that about?"

"Might not be a stretch to say I get disproportionately angry at little things sometimes."

"Definitely not a stretch, why do you think that is?"

"I'm not sure really."

"Do you get mad like that at other people?"

"Oh, absolutely, but I usually don't express it in the same way."

"How's that?"

"Well, with other people I usually keep it inside and brood for a while. Sometimes I'll sit somewhere where no one can hear me and vent a bit. Sometimes I'll take it out on that person, but in indirect ways. Kinda like George Costanza putting the lobster in the eggs, you know?"

"Haha, yes."

"But with inanimate objects, I have a heyday. Computers, video games, phones, zippers, you name it. And you know what's weird? Sometimes I'll even imagine that those inanimate objects have feelings and that they feel scared and sorry when I get angry."

"And how do you feel when you imagine that?"

"Justified, and powerful."

"Seems like that's really something you want to feel. I mean, doesn't the anger itself make you feel like that, too?"

"Ya. I think the imagining is kind of just an extension of the anger."

"So, why do you need to feel justified and powerful?"

"I'm not sure. I feel like it has a lot to do with what I want and things that are important to me, even if only mildly. Like taking a toy away from a child, you know?"

"Absolutely."

"It's strange, though. I mean, why do such small, simple things often become so ridiculously important to me? Why not just let them go?"

"Great question. What do you think?"

"Hm. I don't know. I feel like it's always been that way with me, though. I remember getting really angry as a kid over tons of trivial stuff."

"Like what?"

"Video games was a big one. This one time I remember getting so angry at a game that I was standing up shouting profanity at the TV. I kept playing the same level over and over again and each time I failed I got angrier. My whole family was in the next room! But I didn't even care. I was incensed. I remember my parents sat down with me afterwards and talked to me a little. I remember they said something about being a better example to my younger brothers."

"Did that help?"

"I dunno. I feel like it was the right thing to say, but I was a stubborn kid. I remember my mom telling me lots of times about water and ducks and about how water just slides right off a duck's feathers and about how I could let things go just as easily as that."

"But did you let things go just as easily as that?"

"Not really, I think I just found better ways to hide it. Like I said: stubborn kid."

"Seems like you still are."

"You said it. Funny how I still seem to invariably find ways to ignore the best lessons my parents gave me."

"Haha, you could probably make that same argument for atheism."

"Ooooh, that's fantastically controversial."

"Thought you'd like it."

"I put way too much value on what I want, don't I?"

"Ya, probably."

"You can't always get what you waaant; You can't always get what you waaant. But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you neeed."

"Haha, another lesson from mom and dad?"

"Oh, yes; they sang it with harmonies and everything. It was infuriating."

"Superb! Sing it to yourself one more time and let's go get lunch."