A not very righteous anger

The plan was to write about wheels (for my photo challenge) for this post, yet so often my finger have their own story... and my fingers are never happy fingers, until they find their voice and speak their truth. Today, my fingers feel the need to confess.

As may be obvious to anyone who knows my story or has read my blog, my issues generally tend more toward anxiety and sadness. Seems I turn inward in my distress, rather than outward, for the most part. I've written a lot here about my anxiety, which has worsened about a million fold by infertility, but I'm not frequently truly angry.

When I do get angry, it's usually more of an irritableness about my colleagues complete inability to park within a single parking space (is it really that hard, folks?) - or things of that ilk. Honestly, I've begun to feel that parking skills should be part of every job interview, and our annual review process... with zero tolerance for bad results. So, I do certainly know irritation, which passes pretty quickly for me, but I rarely become actually angry or rage-filled.

Yet rarely is not never... and I don't like that I sometimes do get that way. It's not pretty. It's even more not pretty than my anxiety. 

Yesterday and this morning are two of those sometimes. I became unreasonably angry at the seeming injustice of it all. Not only at the injustice in the fact of the matter:infertility and involuntary childlessness, but at the disparity in support and understanding. 

Almost all of that which I hear people frequently complaining about causes me to think, "Wait, are you kidding me? You're trying to get me to understand? I mean, the world is your support group!! What about me?? Where is my outpouring of support? Doesn't anyone care?" After all, I had to go trolling the interwebs to find support - and thank God for the interwebs and the friends I've found there!! Frankly, I don't know how IFers did it before the interwebs. They must have ended up in asylums.... ahem, or prison. 

Is it a coincidence that somehow this song has been a bit stuck in my head:

"What about meeee - it isn't fair!  I haven't had enough and I want my share - can't you seeeeee - they just take more, they just take more... they just take more than they givvvvve. More than they give."

Yet my fingers write this today as a confession - not a complaint. I don't like that I feel this way. It's no one's fault that my troubles are not the troubles of the majority - we all have our troubles and I'd never wish for anyone to have mine, that is for sure. Still, my desire to be understood isn't right, is it? I should seek only to understand, not to be understood.

While I wish I were a better person, more full of grace, it occurs to me that having anger is probably better for me, actually... Except in the cases of horrible parking, I always realize how unfair my anger towards others is, whereas my anxiety and sadness just keep me focused inward. I recognize prolonged anger and angry actions as sinful, I do not recognize my sometimes wallowing in anxiety that way. My anger repulses me, whereas I melt into my anxiety - not giving in to the fear, but feeling better about myself for my perseverance despite it, rather than turning to prayer. (Please note that I am definitely NOT saying that anxiety is sin, nor even anger... I'm referring to what I personally do with those things.)

In either case, one of the blogs I started following a few months ago - in my effort to try to focus outside of my infertility and involuntary childlessness - posted yesterday with encouragement to be careful which way we lean. I needed to hear this good advice, especially since I was experiencing some of that anger yesterday. It gave me great pause, and speaks to my anxiety as well.

Just this morning, when I first checked my Facebook, I saw something that again took me from 0 to 65 in fits of rage.The details aren't important.

"What about meeee - it isn't fair!  I haven't had enough and I want my share - can't you seeeeee - they just take more, they just take more... they just take more than they givvvvve. More than they give."

I fumed and raged and felt the full weight of my self pity and all of the unfairness that this path is... and I continued to do so for about 5 or 7 minutes or so and felt justified in how outraged I planned to be all day long, but then that still small voice reminded me of the words I read yesterday, to Be Careful Which Way I Lean.

Instead of continuing to fume, I actually prayed. Prayer is good.

"But who can discern their own errors? Forgive my hidden faults. Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me. Then I will be blameless,innocent of great transgression.May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." (Psalm 19:12-14)