One of the joys of modern life is the experience of trying to short-circuit a company's voice mail loops to get to a human being and arriving just after their help center has closed for the day.
Such was my experience yesterday. I was sitting across the desk from a lovely human being who was genuinely trying to help, and we needed one or two small bits of information from this other source, and I wanted to crawl through the phone and hurt somebody. I could feel my blood pressure increasing, and I was perilously close to childbirth words.
I don't often get as angry as I did in my 20's, before I joined the Church. I know that buried anger played a part in my recent illness. I think I might finally be going through the anger stage of grief, because lately my inner snark has been turning cartwheels, even if I don't say what I'm thinking.
This year has been composed of many tender mercies and one small irritation after another. And it's how we act when we are sick or tired or exasperated that shows our character. So it's obvious to me that the Almighty and I still have a lot of work to do.
How do I get to the point where it's not simply biting my tongue to keep from biting somebody's head off (even if they would seem to richly deserve it), or succeeding in not letting anger become depression only to have it crop up as illness instead?
My mother developed high blood pressure, worrying about my finances when I was married to the children's father. I am trying to resolve my own minor but chronic health issues by dealing with the emotional and spiritual components so that the minor does not become major.
I know that none of us gets out of this world alive. I am just trying to live after the manner of happiness, in a world that is going to hell in a hand basket.
And I still haven't figured out what I'm knitting next.