…that’s me.
I reckon the poor lady locked up in an attic in “Jane Eyre” just needed some TLC and maybe some progesterone and she, like me, would have passed for normal.
I nearly blew a gasket this morning in class. I MEANT to deliver a calm oration reminding them that gum was outlawed and so on, but what happened was thankfully mostly internal. I somehow controlled the volcanic eruption that came boiling up like overheated sugar, and all that really showed was me raising my voice above my comfort level and getting a little red in the face. I felt my blood pressure surge as the accumulated anger, ansgt and fury of just about everything decided to have a party in my soul and what should have been a mildly sharp telling-off almost got out of control. In my head, I ran rampage with an axe, hacking bits of students, throwing tables out of windows and chasing my head of department with a Kalashnikov. As I felt the surge of blood, I tried to pull back and I must have done so because the rest of the morning went remarkably well; I didn’t have to yell at them again, and none of them were cowering away from me as I walked round the class, marking work and chatting.
But really, I felt dreadful. I’d spent about half an hour on the phone last night trying to speak to someone at NHS direct because I’d been having such severe chest pains I was really worrying I was about to have a heart attack. NHS direct were too busy to speak to me, because of swine flu, so I gave up and I guess it must all have been hysteria because I woke up at 6.30 this morning, and nothing worse occurred. I’ve still got chest pains but I think it’s just stress now. Walking to work, I would have welcomed a minor run-in with a car; not enough to kill or maim, just enough to not have to go to work and maybe get a sympathy card from work mates.
At break, I discovered my period had just started so some of the madness will subside, now. But the fact was that the students nearly saw me lose it in a big way and really, it wasn’t due to them at all. It felt like all my anger at so many things was just waiting for an opportunity to escape.
I need a holiday, I need something to keep me calm and stop this insane anger. And it’s just not going to happen any time soon. So it’s up to me to try and limit damage until I can figure out a better way to live with who and what I am and how I react to the world. An island of my own would be nice…
Zen and the Art of Tightrope Walking 