I’ve always had a tendency to suppress negative feelings and reactions when life gets ugly. While this is no doubt unhealthy, the real problem is that they tend to later escape in response to (apparently) unrelated situations. I’ve gotten much better over the years at being mad about whatever I’m actually mad about, sad over whatever I’m actually sad about, etc. In recent years, however, as times have become a bit too “interesting”, I’ve noticed it happening again.
By itself, this doesn’t merit a written confessional, but I think I’m seeing it happening with other people more and more often. Since not everyone is accustomed to the dynamics of this particular slice of emotional dysfunction, I figured I’d share – starting with a few mundane, real life examples.
A few nights ago, my Dallas Stars played the St. Louis Blues on the first night of a home-and-home to finish off the regular season for both teams. Unlike most regular season games, this one was nationally broadcast, which comes with its own headaches. Nationally televised games tend to use way too many commentators in the studio and at the game. They’re usually all ex-players from the 1970s who’ve known one another for longer than anyone on the ice has been alive. As a result, the majority of the broadcast is spent on insider jokes no one else understands and an excessive amount of forced joviality – “KAW KAW KAW KAW KAW! YOU’RE BALD! KAW KAW KAW KAW KAW! LOOK AT THIS FOOTAGE OF YOU FROM 1893!” It’s really quite maddening – but sadly, I’m used to that part.
This particular night, there was a 30 minute pregame segment leading up to the game. The broadcast spent about 60 seconds talking about a rookie making his debut for the Blues (who were already well out of playoff contention) and the rest fawning over my Stars (who’ll finish first or second in their division this season) and KAW KAW-ing at one another.
I thought I was going to have a stroke, I was so infuriated.
The thing is, I hate the Blues. They’re one of the few teams for which I have no sympathy, ever. I don’t love the city. I despise their playing style. I’ve decided they’re all very bad people individually, although I have nothing on which to base this other than my own hockey psychosis. It’s bad enough that I actually rooted for the Boston Bruins a few years ago when they met the Blues in the Stanley Cup playoffs, which is like hoping the rattlesnake bite gets you out of going to the dentist.
But how dare they not even talk about the other team!!! How dare they treat a club that won the Cup only a few years ago merely as an accessory for their current darlings to crush. The Blues have a huge fan base. They buy tickets. They stream games. They buy official NHL products. How $#%&ing disrespectful to completely marginalize them based on your own giddiness for their opponent.
Only… what do I care?!? I love the Stars. They’re MY team! I’m glad they’re finally getting some positive attention (although few honestly believe they’re likely to make it past a few rounds). But we’ve been that “other” team before – far more often than we’ve been the crush-of-the-day for the withered pantheon trotted out by ABC or ESPN or TNT every time they deign to broadcast God’s own sport. We’ve been talked about like an accessory for other teams – the NHL version of the Washington Generals while EVERY OTHER TEAM was the Harlem Globetrotters. I don’t wish that on anyone.
Not even Blues fans.
As someone who’s been ‘round the block a few times with this pattern, let me tell you – most of my outrage wasn’t really about the broadcast. That was the trigger, sure – but the fact that I couldn’t even enjoy the game for the first hour? That I had to do deep breathing exercises to release the tension in my chest? That my very patient wife finally had to shift into slightly serious mode and tell me to LET. IT. GO? My reactions were totally out of proportion to the sins of those provoking me.
We need to consider why that might be, but I should probably include at least one school-related example first.
School leadership announced just before Winter Break that we’d be including a “Homeroom Period” once a week with an altered schedule to accommodate. We were told that any resistance to this suggested a fear of “innovation,” despite how many times the district has tried this exact same plan over the past twenty years without results or even minor modifications. We were assured that teachers would love it because many of the various club meetings, college visits to the school, picture retakes, and whatever else normally interrupts class randomly throughout the week, could be done during “Homeroom” now – so, yay!
Yesterday, during FIRST HOUR (which is very much NOT “Homeroom”), we received a school-wide announcement to check our email (code for “we couldn’t be bothered to let you know about this ahead of time”) for a list of students being called away for a “leadership” group photo of some sort. Setting aside that it was first hour, meaning the majority of our young “leaders” were unlikely to be at school yet, this was EXACTLY the sort of thing we were assured would be done through “Homeroom.” To date, that’s happened exactly zero times – while the interruptions to real class time continue unabated.
But… why should I care?!? We weren’t doing anything life-altering that period, and the two kids I lost as a result were no great sacrifice. And yet, the principle of the matter grated its idealistic nails across my soul’s ragged chalkboard, and I found myself fussing about it to any adult who’d listen for the rest of the day.
Even by my standards, that’s a bit out of whack. Sure, I had every right to be annoyed. What didn’t make sense was the intensity of my reaction, and how long it took for me to move past it. I mean, come on – that’s not healthy, right?
People who stay parked at the pump while they wander the aisles buying chips and sodas no matter how many cars are lined up waiting to get gas. Motivational signs outside of local businesses which are condescendingly trite and misspelled at the same time. Companies with endless, automated phone menus which never actually connect you to anyone who can answer your question. Folks who play stupid videos on their phone at distorted volumes in waiting rooms or restaurants. Technical FAQs which tell you to select an option from the dropdown menu that’s not actually in the dropdown menu.
There are plenty of valid reasons to be annoyed or even angry in daily life, but what I’ve had to accept over the years is that – for me, at least – my reaction to such minor irritants is often more indicative of the many things I try to ignore or accommodate, despite the fact that they’re way more important and should be having a much greater immediate impact.
Republicans are pushing new pro-hate crime legislation in my state? Well, whatchagonnado? Time for Big Bang Theory! The faith community continues to rewrite the Gospels as an extended celebration of guns, wealth, and whiteness? Those crazy Christians, amiright? Hey, who wants pizza?! I can’t fix the endless parade of issues plaguing my dear students in their homes, heads, and hearts – let alone win them over to the wonders of passing U.S. History – no matter how much I love them and want to make it better. So many of them are so angry, so broken, and so lost. But, hey – summers off, yes? Refer them to the social worker then push on with that timeline project!
I’m not even convinced it’s all hopeless. I believe there are things which COULD be done to make a positive difference… I just can’t imagine having the energy to even focus enough to try.
Please understand, my life is not bad. This isn’t a thinly veiled cry for help so much as a calculated risk that maybe other people are dealing with something similar and may find some comfort in discovering it’s not just them. (Yeah, yeah – I’m being touchy-feely. I’d say “so sue me,” but my state representatives are currently working on a way to make that actually happen, so…)
This is a reminder to myself and anyone who’s read this far that when we’re tired or discouraged or worried or bewildered, we tend to fall back on old habits and mindsets, whether they were healthy for us in the first place or not. For me, that means that when I think I’m setting aside my outrage, my despair, my discouragement over the things I keep learning about my country and at least half of its voting citizens, I’m actually storing it up for later release – often in response to far less provocative situations.
The fact that it’s beginning to reappear suggests it’s long past time for me to take a time out and seriously reconsider how I’m managing stress and the insanity around us. By itself, that’s not a magical fix. I’ll revisit some positive habits and adjust some of my attitudes, and probably grow a bit as a result. But eventually things will get weird again, and I’ll find myself barking at the car in front of me using language that leaves acid burns on my tongue and suggests a complete lack of familiarity with the limits of human anatomy.
That’s OK. We don’t need to figure it all out this time around. The key is to notice, own it, and adjust – ourselves and our approach first. The rest of the world isn’t likely to change… especially if we’re too discouraged and angry and broken to help make it happen.