It must be exhausting to be a therapist and not be able to just call out what you see when you see it. There’s no way I’d have the patience to wait on people to figure things out on their own.
So, I’ve realized that I’m not actually angry at the day-to-day stuff that goes off the rails. Am I annoyed when contracted work is done wrong and furniture arrives damaged? Oh, 100%. But, am I really angry enough about those inconsequential things to still be ruminating on them, like, 3 days later? Probably not.
Perhaps, just perhaps, it’s easier for me to feel justifiably angry at a broken mirror than to feel anger at people who I love or at things that I can’t change. Maybe I’d rather fool myself into believing that I’m angry over paint touch-ups that don’t match, rather than think about how resentful I feel toward my (amazing, wonderful, totally loved) children for taking so much of my time, energy, resources. Maybe I’d rather think about the one-liner my mom said today than about how earth-shatteringly angry I am at her for not protecting me while I was growing up.
Day 116.
I Quit: Giving up Bulimia 