The Rage Against Nice: Why It’s Time to Get Real About Our Feelings

I have been in constant exhaustion and I believe that a lot of us are feeling just as worn out as 7 hours of sleep is not enough to recharge the knackered body and a quick trip to our favorite destination can’t comfort the drained soul anymore. Oh, and talk about how time just never felt so friendly because no matter how much we try and how rushing we are on floating through it, it always feels like there is so much to do on so little time spared. Some people would literally sacrifice their sleep to have a little more time with their loved ones. In my case, I keep daydreaming of how nice it would be if we can choose just 1 day of the week to sleep inside some kind of futuristic pod where we only have to have 2-3 hours of sleep instead of 7 hours each day.

There are 7 days on each week and all four weeks multiplied by the number of months every year. I don’t care how many days there are every year, all I know is in one of those 7 days a week, we all have had the bad ones haven’t we? Between some of those bad ones, of course there are the worst and the range of how we feel on each of them varies from desperately sad to horrendously mad.

And to add salt to that custom wound, we always betray ourselves by feeling a certain way about some feelings.

Like we would feel guilty if we feel trapped in the life we live in as if we’re not grateful for all the blessings. Or we always blame ourselves for not doing anything on some days off just because we want to wind down from everything. We would hate it or be overly self-critical just because we have so much hate and rage on some bad days. The ugly part of it, we would always feel bad whenever we’re mad about something that—let’s say—is bad.

Let’s see how it rolls in my everyday life. But first…

 

A Confession

I’ve been trying to write more and realizing that it will be just as hard if I really give myself some kind of censorship just because I keep trying to be nice that l have to cut some truth from my writing, which impossible to do because my words are always about the truth, because writing for me is about being honest to myself.

Alright, okay. I was not just trying to be nice (but I do know that I’m a nice one) but also because I feel bad if I write something about particular things. I would always think about people who would get hurt or offended just because what I have to say is probably different from popular opinion, or I would be spiraling about how my audience would perceive me because of what I feel about specific things. All that is what I believe is one of some reasons of why lately | write less.

So here it is, one of those colorful honesty that I’ve been trying to repress because I keep wanting to sound like a nice person and certainly don’t want to hurt some feelings.

But whatever.

 

Some Bad Days Are The Worst

Alright, so anybody out here feeling like an explosive? Or just a meaty sack carrying tons of gunpowder around inside them that a single tiny trigger could really blow you up maybe?

Because I do and lately it’s getting intense, especially on some of the bad days. But what do my bad days look like?

Let’s say it varies and one of them is when rage fills my body and my blood is boiling that I believe my skin turns red during the time. I breathe hard, like the exhales and the inhales were intentionally audible with the heavy sigh and I’d groan angrily because sometimes it helps me get calmer.

But, ugh, how do I put this nicely, but some people just make me want to throw a tantrum. I did tell a friend once that some people really bring out the worst in each other.

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And I guess, some of those applied to me. Or just occasionally triggers some unhealed part of me because they too, unhealed and easily triggered. Like a sack of explosives.

The thing is, I keep telling myself that I want to practice breathing exercises instead of getting drowned in the spiraling thoughts, getting super angry and talking shit and thinking the worst about other people. But most of the time I just can’t help but hate meeting people. I hate that their ugly behavior of talking about other people keeps annoying me every time. I hate that being surrounded by people, especially a pool of strangers or a chaotic crowd makes me panic and stressed out. I hate that their laughter and the sound they make while they’re eating really makes me want to scream. I told everybody that I love the sound of keyboards clicking but there are places where the sound of somebody typing makes my head so full of anger. And I hate that with all the identity we bring with our existence, some people just can’t shake the habitual hatred they mindlessly keep showing.

And also, the one trait that I really hate from humans, is that they can easily let the purest intentions get wrapped and overlooked just to have another promising return that being an opportunist gave. And I just can’t stop connecting all the strings and writing all sorts of scenarios in my head that makes me just want to go home and hide under the sheets and forget that I have to attend my job 5 days a week, 9 hours everyday.

Oh, trust me I am not a saint but believe me I have been roaming the earth long enough to know that being called a loner is way better than having to deal with all that. I’m exhausted and keep dreaming about a life in the woods with all the silence but the rustling sound of the trees when they get kissed by the wind.

 

Now This Is Where It Gets Messy

I’m exhausted. There, I said it again. If all of that thing is what we have to deal with, who doesn’t? And if exhaustion is the word I’ve written 5 times now in this one piece alone, I think I need to understand something about it. So here’s my 2 cents.

As if having to do all the work, all the routines, all the commutes, all the chores, all the physical activity is not enough to spend our energy with, we tend to add some more work load to ourselves by being our first critics. I mean look at how I described my feelings when some people were typing too loud and it annoyed me. I said I hate feeling that way about it. I used the words “I hate” generously and it naturally came out of my mind right through my fingers. I genuinely hated the way I felt during those angry days. And that’s where it’s wrong.

Our whole life we’ve been told that anger is a bad feeling.

We’ve been told to control our feelings that at some point we have to shove it all down. We’ve also been told that we’re not allowed to hate, to be mad, to be sad, to feel disappointed, and any kind of feelings that are considered “a bad one”. It’s no one’s fault now that it took hours of therapy for us to understand that no feeling is a bad feeling. It’s no one’s fault that after all this time, after all the effort to heal, to unpack and to restore ourselves, we still find it hard to just feel the feeling instead of blaming ourselves for feeling it.

Now isn’t it answering enough to my exhaustion problem that one of the big reasons is this: I let the feelings fold, shoved, stuffed myself and when it feels too much to carry, I blame myself for feeling that way.

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Now what?

It is hard to be nice and I hate it when people say being nice is easy. I mean, not saying cruel things to other people when they have nothing to do with you is easy, but to keep on being nice when all they do is make unnecessary exaggerated volumes of laughter in the public space? It’s taking all the energy from your body.

And to refrain yourself from yelling at the people who keep interrupting your conversation with a friend just because they want to be part of the talk is what I believe they call energy draining. And so be it.

It’s okay to feel angry when those people make you feel uncomfortable at work because of their loud laughter.

It’s okay if you hate your neighbor for building a literal cow barn next to your back porch and send the smell to your house all day long. It’s okay to pull ourselves away from an interaction because we just can’t stand the dominant talker with main character syndrome anymore.

It’s okay to feel disgusted by a stupid argument someone’s pushing on you.

Be angry, be mad, be disgusted, feel the hate. Feel all that feeling and never question why you feel it. My therapist said that it’s not about feeling better, it’s about getting better at feeling.

 

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