I'm just going to take a minute or two to get something off my chest...
I've got to be honest, I'm not really happy with myself with how I handle stress, much less my temper.
To add further to this confession of honesty, I realized something about myself today... whenever I get stressed out, I cry. Go ahead and call me a crybaby if you want, but it's either that or getting angry, and I don't like being angry. So much so, in fact, that I can't remember a time where I haven't turned my anger on myself because I was ashamed of that emotion.
Why am I saying something about it now? I suppose it has something to do with being aware of having this same problem for years, and it still not being resolved. I wonder if I still have the problem because I haven't done anything about it or because the only one who can truly solve my predicament has decided that the best course of action is to take this slowly. I'm used to being able to just solving matters right then and there and just being done with it, but so is the price I pay for working in fast food customer service for as long as I have...
Today, I was about to give in comparing myself to someone else's anger, and that I shared in his bitterness because we were so much alike. If it had not been for the fact that the difference resided in ignorance (in my case, the lack thereof) then I would have believed it. Nonetheless, the way my negative feelings stresses me out even more. It is not the fault of inanimate objects that I feel the way that I do under tense situations, so there's no need (nor any point) to take it out on them.
Isn't it weird that when I need that fidget cube the most, I use it even less?
Why do I even bother closing the register a little harder, or smack myself in the face with a little more force if I know that in the back of my mind it is all in vain? Is because for that split second in time I know these things can take it? Is it because of the fact that I did these things in the past that it adds up to the errors of today? What would be different if I had just balled up my fists and made myself bleed instead of something else around me?
The more I sit back and reflect on everything, the more I realize how patient God has been with me, and now he's extended that patience to those around me. Those who understand me understand too well, and for the record, I'm just not used to that. I'm not used to people being able to get where I'm coming from. Heck, I expect the polar opposite!
As I sigh from the headache in my brain and the broken glasses on my desk (now held together by the sheer will of God and some super glue), there are only two things that I'm certain of:
One, only God can change me now so I don't become the very thing I want to avoid.
Two, this process is very slow... and no one can take the next step but me...
Thanks for hearing me out guys... I needed to get that off my chest...
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