Recently my oldest daughter said something to the effect of, “Daddy, why are you angry all the time?” You could’ve knocked me down with a feather from the shock, because she was not wrong.
One of the things I’ve discovered being a parent is that I am not as patient as I once thought I was, and I’ll admit to having more than my fair share of days when I lose my temper. I’m not proud of it, and I am constantly catching myself and committing to changing that. But this year has been different. This year I’ve been angry, truly angry, and it’s affected me and those whom I love around me.
I don’t know I could tell you exactly why I’ve been angry, although the mess of a world in which we currently live has a lot to do with it. As much as I’ve tried to put a barrier between me and the shitshow of a year that 2020 has been, there’s only so much I can do. The stress of it all has gotten to me, I accept that. I see all the injustices going on, how we’ve been in this horrible pandemic, the effects of which I have seen with my own eyes, yet have a government that actively downplayed its effects, and has done little to nothing to curb the spread. Each of the 200,000+ deaths from COVID-19 lie at the feet of our idiot president and all his sycophants. I see the open racism running rampant in the country, an infection that finally boiled over and is now in the open in ways that I never thought possible, aided and abetted, once again, by our idiot president and all his sycophants. I could go on and on and on, but just writing this is making my stomach upset. But although it may be a reason, it is not an excuse.
So yeah, I’ve been angry, but it’s spilled over into my life, and for that I am sorry and ashamed. And frankly, tired. So tired. The weight of the horrible things going on is heavy on me. Our country is a mess, hatred’s been normalized and promoted by our leaders, and we have threats from the sitting president that he may not consent to a peaceful transfer of power. Everywhere I look there’s something that makes my chest hurt. Even my own island of Puerto Rico is a mess, suffering the effects of decades of government corruption and the effects of colonization, so I carry the pain of both countries in my heart. Recently I blew up while scrolling through one of my social networks, sent angry replies to people who displayed a liking for our idiot president, and ended up just feeling empty after it was done, having changed no one’s mind.
It’s too much.
There’s a ton to be angry about, but I don’t want to be angry anymore. It’s gonna kill me, hurt my loved ones, and it won’t make any difference. I don’t want my daughter to wonder why her daddy only seems to yell and shout all the time.
I’m done. I’m gonna be better. I’m still going to pay attention to what’s going on, but I commit to not letting it destroy me, and those around me. I’ll use my anger as fuel for actions that hopefully lead to change, and not let it be fuel for immolation.