February 24th, 2005
Acute bronchitis. That's what I've got. Sure, I go ahead and quit smoking and feel good and smug about it and everything ... and then my body decides to get bronchitis. Well, the trip to freezing cold realms (i.e., Russia) and strange hours flying in closed-air airplanes all over America, and, well, maybe it's no surprise at all.
But I am going to compromise my regular beliefs and tempt fate by declaring here and now that, with regards to this bout of acute bronchitis:
Nyaa nyaa! What doesn't kill me makes me stronger!
* * *
Among my friends and family is a free-floating charge that I am occasionally a very grumpy man. I once mentioned to a boss that I was perfectly well aware that I "got a bit grumpy in the mornings" and he interrupted me to say, "no, no, Brian, you are grumpy in the mornings ..." He wasn't admonishing me for it, just letting me know that he had my number. And, quite frankly, so do most of the people around me--at least about that.
Now, I'm not making apologies for it here. I yam wot I yam, and all. And the people who have learned over the years that they can trust me wholly are not fazed or offended by my bouts of grumpiness. They let it slide off their backs ... and after a few hours or (at most) days, I have figured out what is creasing my cowlings and I bend back into my normal shape. I can even usually talk about it, or write it here. Or whatever.
In the long run I am much happier for it. I see lots of people wandering around letting weirdness and poison build up inside themselves year after year as they hide their own unpleasantness for sake of image. Then they either explode when they are 50, or they develop weird diseases and 7-syllable maladies. Or, much much worse, they find themselves playing weird control-issue-mind-games with their spouses and children (thereby ensuring another generation of emotionally irresponsible idiots).
Now, I am not unique in the world about this. It seems to me that emotional self-awareness is the healthiest way to live: If something bothers me, I let it bother me fer chrissakes. I don't have to take it out on everyone around me, but there is nothing wrong with walking around and being unhappy or grumpy. I do it probably because most of the members of my family do it, my wife does it, even a goodly number of my friends do it.
The folks I worry about are the ones without the training to know how they are feeling. They can intellectualize, of course ("I should be angry right now because ... ") but they aren't actually aware of when they are upset or not. Again, these are the folks that will explode when they turn 50 (or inadvertently mindfuck their children).
I knew someone once who started out quite unafraid of me and my grumpy spells, but developed, over time, a growing fear of me. Over time, this person developed a stronger and stronger conviction that I was dangerous and would eventually become violent. For a long time I drove myself crazy trying to keep this person's feelings soothed. And then I gave up eventually.
I was wracked with guilt for months about "giving up in failure" until it struck me one day that it had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with that person's own fears, of which I could do absolutely nothing to help (I could only make them worse by continuing to give them credence.)
I had a very wise friend who pointed out to me that anger and hard feelings are a sign of a great pain and need somewhere inside a person. It made sense to me, because now, years later, I can still see the hurt in this person's eyes. Even as I was being called every nasty name in the book and accused of every horrible behaviour in the world, those eyes showed a profound pain, but only a teenager's level of emotional maturity.
A fear response, a triggered need, a pain ... and my standard grumpy state being the catalyst. It seems natural that I would become the scapegoat.
As I said above, I am not making apologies for the way I am. I was honest and genuine through it all, and the only act of stupidity I perfomed was a common male failing: I started to lose faith in my own sensibilities. The worst thing a man can do to himself is to start believing his detractors--especially when the detractor is someone he lives next to--because it is a form a slow-motion suicide. I know, I was on that slide.
I am no different from anyone else in that I have these feelings, but I consider myself somewhat more evolved than a lot of people because I take the time to process the feelings. That makes me grumpy for a while, and that grumpiness spooked someone with a pre-existing set of problems to work out. Like it or not, that person has these problems. They can make their own decisions about what to do about it--including just walking around for the rest of their days spewing derision (which is just processed fear).
For me, I just get a bit grumpy for a while ...