Angry as Stink

I woke up this morning, opened my eyes and within seconds I felt angry. Angry as stink. So angry it was as if my skin was itching all over. Another quarter of the year in lockdown to face, the vaccine still not offered to my 96-year-old father and a cold, long winter day to see through. Angry because Boris couldn’t organise a p*** up in the proverbial brewery and continues to award contracts to his cronies who can’t either. And angry because in the US rioters storming the Capitol Building are let off with a friendly pat on the back and a “don’t do it again, son” like children scrumpy-ing apples from an orchard in a rural idyll whilst Trump slides slickly away from being held accountable yet again, with the backing of “respectable” Republican grandees.

My husband is a great believer in positive mindset. I’m angry about that too. How can I stay calm and accepting with all this going on? It’s crap and there’s no way of saying otherwise. And isn’t it just typical that women aren’t supposed to show anger? I don’t want to be nice, kind, and socially acceptable like a polite woman in a Jane Austen novel. This morning I want to scream out with rage, frustration, powerlessness and an energy that could fire a rocket to the moon in seconds.

And this is how it goes in change. Just when we think we’ve got a handle on it all, when we’ve got our coping strategies in place, something hits us broadside, sometimes for the most valid of reasons and sometimes for the flimsiest of all, and there we are, floundering in the mud-field of despair and slithering into a boggy mire.

I’m consoling myself this afternoon that I did what I could to get back onto firmer ground. I off-loaded to that ever patient husband, ate a good breakfast, reminded myself of all the many things I am grateful for (including how well he boils an egg), took a long bracing walk, made a diary note to ring my father’s surgery about the vaccine, and sat down to write so that I could add my own voice (however small) to the bigger swell of public opinion that thinks that politicians both here and in the US should be called to account.

If you are feeling angry this January, I salute you. If you’ve run out of good walks, are sick of taking a deep breath, can’t face another yoga session, and are laughing hysterically in the face of home schooling (my grand-daughters have been told they can’t attend Zoom class in their bedroom because there are too many distractions. Try explaining that to parents who are working from home. Did I mention I was angry?), I’m with you. This too will pass. We know it will. The exercise, the breathing, the gratitude, the “tomorrow’s another day” does work. We know it does. And when the energy builds, and the frustration gets overwhelming let’s look it in the eye and do something about it, not sweep it under the carpet, because I am pretty sure I am not the only one feeling this way today.