confession: anger journal.

I’m one of those people who really struggles with the kinds of emotions that I would never, ever want to burden anyone else with.  Sorry to my English-teacher sister for the dangling participle, but it’s true.  The only person who really sees the depths of darkness and frustration is the Hub, and he really didn’t ask for that privilege.  My mom gets a little bit of it, but to her possible surprise, she doesn’t get the worst of it.

I’m working to change all of that, by the way.  Shouldn’t the Hub getting the absolute best of me?

This brings me to my latest realization:  when I go to write in a gratitude journal, I often think, “I really don’t need this.  What I need is a place to lay down my frustrations, anger, depression, pity, and general malaise”.

No matter how down in the dumps I am, I always manage to be grateful at some point, every single day.  I don’t even try ~ it’s just second-nature to me.  Gratitude pours out of me because I was raised a third-generation Polyanna (at least), and it’s in my blood to be a glass-half full girl.

Also ~ OMG my life.  My life is so full of beauty and excitement and hard work and music and dinners and wine and OH MY GOSH.  My cup runneth over, y’all.

But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have really obnoxious, unfair things happen to me all the time.  And no matter how hard I try, I am deeply affected by them.

You just can’t “Does This Spark Joy” everything, and everyone, in your life.

Is it a sign, though, that while I am writing this post, a letter fell off my message board?

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HA HA HA!  It’s a sign!  Literally and figuratively.  Ha.

But seriously, DO I SPARK JOY?  Geez, I hope so.  It’s literally all I have to give to this world in bulk.  Ok, maybe I have some other things to offer, but mainly, I am here on this earth to entertain, cook for, love, understand, and make people laugh.

Last time I checked, no one was asking me advice about their budget.  Or the state of affairs in Uganda.

Don’t get me wrong ~ I very much want to be respected, but I only really care about that when people don’t treat me with respect.  And when I don’t treat myself with respect?  That’s the most infuriating of all.

That’s why I now have decided to scratch the gratitude journal and pick up an ANGER JOURNAL.  I think this is a change over to something that will create more space in my mind for the things I just listed up there, and also, peace, creativity, patience, and love.

Allison Melody, from the Food Heals Podcast, calls it “Write and Burn”.  She writes her anger or hurt or resentment out, and then sets it on fire.  I love her for that.

I have so much unconditional love and “turn the other cheek” in me ~ it’s crazy.  I will forgive and forgive, until I don’t even know who I am anymore.  But I hope that an anger journal will help me actually forget much quicker, and get rid of those negative feelings before they end up on my face!

It’s always about anti-aging with me, ain’t it?

I also hope I can set healthy boundaries more quickly.  Because I’m a person who forgives easily, I also tend to stay in unhealthy situations way longer than I should.  That’s a really bad habit at any age, but let me tell ya, that’s a detrimental habit if you’re over 40.

And again, it shows up on your face.

NO BUENO.

One more thought before I let you all get back to your lives:  I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I just flippantly stated some pretty amazing life-goals a few paragraphs ago ~ that I am on this earth to “entertain, cook for, love, understand, and make people laugh”.  So why am I so dang stressed about “work, e-mail, weight-loss, and making more money”?

I’m WAY OFF TRACK.

I’ve got some ANGRY JOURNAL-ing to do.

 

 

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2 thoughts on “confession: anger journal.

  1. I tried to comment but since I used to have a word press account it always messes it up. You spark joy every time I hear your voice, especially when you sing. But conversation is a joy, along with your easy laughter. And food. Well, you’ve got that nailed.

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

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