Deflated

So I've been documenting my exponentially increasing rage a number of times, on this blog. It's been a sort of unbridled, undisciplined anger that never really makes it to the surface. Reading back, I don't think I quite underlined the word rage. Some people have construed it as 'frustration' or 'depression' or even just 'resignation' or 'malaise' or 'ennui'. I meant rage in the full sense of the word.

Anger. Wrath. Violent inner turmoil, simmering beneath an ever-thinning surface.

While before it would take a lot to make me angry, the triggers that set me off have become increasingly sensitive. I'm set off by the most innocuous of things. Memories, people in love walking hand-in-hand in the street, well dressed young people..

It's clear what's going on here. I've descended into bitterness and regret at the way my life is playing out. I know I'm not doing too badly (at least, when I force rationality to counter my impulses), but it's all based on settling and accepting compromises and coming to terms with my limitations and weaknesses. I think it's called maturity and it really does suck.

One of my biggest regrets is that I never started on my college basketball team. Seems pretty trivial, right? It would be, if it wasn't such a metaphor or a blueprint for my life. I think, given the choice, we'd all like to be the star, the best looking person in town, the richest or the most dashing. When it doesn't turn out that way, we redefine our standards and skill-sets to accomodate what we hopefully refer to as reality. And it's bitter, because you see others who have what you, as a child, expected life to serve up for you.

I get really angry and hurt when I see families; men with girlfriends and kids and, seemingly, lives. I wonder what my own damage is, that I can't have what they have. They make it seem very easy and it probably is, for them. I'm sure I'm good at things they're not good at, as well. But the fundamentals, I've always had a problem with.

In a way, I always needed training wheels, for life. And while people with the things I don't have make me angry, I'm really just angry at myself. I wouldn't change my world or my life. But I sure as hell would change my head, if I could.