Yesterday I felt rage. All day I could feel it building, simmering underneath the social veneer like an animal pacing against the bars of a cage. I don’t like to be angry, it’s not good for me. You say things you don’t really mean and everyone gets hurt. I like calm; you can think things through rather than blurting out the first thing that roars from your subconscious.
It wasn’t anything anyone had said to me, nor something I had or hadn’t done. Just a combination of little events that when coupled together built into something less than pleasant. No, actually that’s not really true. If I’m honest, I was angry because I couldn’t help H. She was ill and she’s had a hard run of it of late. I wanted things to go her way; wanted her to be well, not clapped out knackered and run down. But you can’t will someone well can you? God knows I wanted that for my (late) sister, but that’s not how the world works is it. Boy, am I not just a little ray of sunshine or what? 🙂
I am now back to being calm. Calmed by the knowledge that H is going to be alright and that her condition will improve.