WARNING: I am in foul temper.
I hope tomorrow to have the blog ready that explains this temper. I've tried writing it but anger is seething inside me and the words that come are words of impulse not of consideration. I'd love to let go to the impulse, but I choose not to, I choose to govern myself a little more. I have, after all, grown up a bit. So, I need more time, another sleep, a day's more maturity.
But till then ...
Into a fragile state of mind comes this interchange ...
I am trying to go to the bathroom. The lobby of the movie theatre is jam packed with people standing around chatting. There's a special event going on at the theatre and it's intermission. I'm not part of the event, I'm just a movie goer who has to go. I come to two small groups. They form an impassible barrier. I say, politely, 'excuse me'. No one hears me. No one moves. I say, politely but louder, 'Excuse Me.' No one hears me. No one moves. I say, louder and less politely, 'EXCUSE ME.' No one hears me. No one moves. Now I shout, 'EXCUSE ME!!!!!! I SAID EXCUSE ME!!!!!' A fellow looks down at me.
He tells me to 'settle down', but he doesn't move until the woman he is with pulls him away. I roll away, people glaring at me, him shouting, 'You shouldn't get yourself so upset!'
I fought myself from turning and blasting him. I wanted to tell him that I'm sick to death of always having to apologize, always having to request people to move aside because they can't see people in wheelchairs, even big fat, huge, bald men, in wheelchairs. Always having to apologize because they can't hear people in wheelchairs, even big fat men with big lungs that are used to speaking to crowds, used to projecting to the back of the room. Always having to apologize just to get space to go to the bathroom.
Sick to frigging death of it.
I'm tired of being too visible most of the time and invisible at inopportune times.
I'm tired of having to be so frigging polite to people who don't deserve it.
I'm tired of always restraining my anger.
I'm tired of searching for, but only sometimes finding, the exact right thing to say.
I'm tired of having situations where I need a right thing to say.
But then, I don't know how much of my anger, which almost overtook me there in the theatre was about that interchange ... and how much of it was about the anger I brought in with me. The anger that's been building since yesterday. I don't know. I didn't want to hit him with an emotional grenade when a verbal faceslap would have done.
I don't know.
But then, I need to stop writing this and go back to trying to write what I want to write. Hopefully tomorrow I can lance my anger and be able to type rationally.
Well see won't we??