Grumpy


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We’re all so good writing lists of happy things to do when you’re sad, if we write them when we’re happy.
We’re all so good telling ourselves that depression is repressed anger.
We’re all so good also telling ourselves that getting angry is useless, and to be onest with ourselves to figure out what makes us angry… ’cause if we understand that in theory we’re ok.
We’re also so good telling “the hard part is to start, but try some, little by little, and you’ll find yourself unable to stop”.
Ok.
Granted.
How do I start?

HOW. DO. i. FRIGGIN. START?

After all we all need some grumpy time once in a while. Indulge in the guilty pleasure to give rough answers, see all negative and effing off this and that.

In those times I also feel the need to hear nasty noises, loud, disturbing, annoying sounds… and possibly smash something in the meanwhile.
So I found myself thinking about some safe destruction. Safe loud destruction.
Your mom’s pottery: feels good, but no. NO.
Clothes: not loud enough.
Punching walls and doors: it hurts, so, no.
Then I found out.
Glass.

Pile up all the empty bottles and jars you have, then head to the diversified harvest thrash can you have… and toss them in, as violently as you can (watch out for flying pieces though!).

Then breathe deep.

Oh, I do have an answer for my question above.
And I don’t like it.
Just start, even force yourself if you need to.
There is no other way.
I’m sorry, granted I am.

PS
Some Pow Wow wise words (or so it seems, if I’m wrong correct me, thank you)… Women used to gather once a week, discussing their problems and givin each other advices on how to solve them. But if the next week you complained again for the same, exactly the same, problem you only had two choices: deal with it, really dealing with it.
Or stop complaining.

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