I never really thought myself as an angry person. I did keep my calm at many times in my life. People being arrogant, insults, general plain nastiness. I was never angry. I was always in control. Until, I found out that it was not anger which I was supposed to be afraid of.
I was supposed to be afraid of frustration. If anger was a short madness, frustration was like a psychotic episode put on a gradually growing cycle. I thought I could ignore it. And I did. I pretended to ignore it, making it grow more easily. I was so blind and too proud at myself for being able to control my anger that I let myself fall a victim, and at the same time rising as the sole criminal, my crime to myself. Thinking about it again, it didn’t stop to grow, it rather sped up.
Frustration seemed to follow me at every step of my life. They were always there, silently gnawing in the dark. When I shone a light at it, it didn’t matter. They just kept chewing.
Anger stopped when I found it, frustration just stayed there. It never went away. But the thing about frustration was, it was not confrontational like anger. Anger could be calmed down, or forcibly dragged back into the depths of our being. But frustration was different. It was easy to move it, but it was shackled by life’s miseries.
It is why frustration was so frustrating. It was not our fault that it kept haunting us. It was because we were unable to change, the little and big details. We just could not change them and so frustration would always build up over and over.
It was weird how much I thought I was in control of myself. I always knew the external happenings were always out of order, but at least what was inside me, I thought I could control. Sad to say, It is not. But I had to face it.
Maybe someday, these limitations will no longer be there. Until then, I will just have to keep a close watch in the dark and not forget that I am not in control, yet I will not be ignorant again.