I'd say somebody pissed me off, but 'angered' is so much more fun.
The word 'angered' has a history both poetic and richly textured; it's a word of substance and meaning.
I believe that I first heard the word 'angered' on the Real World.
"You anger me."
These words were spoken by someone whose anger was in control. In check. Recognized, but not acted on.
Actually, I supose I've never really heard the word 'angered' since that one time it was uttered by Nathan from VMI on the Real World Seattle. That one utterance was indeed my first and last experience with the word. But, man....that word done stuck in my head.
Kind of like the stupid little ditty Roddy Macklin used to sing in ninth grade spanish.
"I'm a nut. I'm a pea-nut nut."
Roddy Macklin was so cool. And so cute. And I thought he was so radical when he sang about being a pea-nut nut. He'd croon while the rest of us just hid from the spanish teacher's attention lest she ask us to stand up and recite some hideous dialogue about Senor and Senora Garcia and their tres ninos.
At the tender age of 41, I still hear that goddamned song in my head at least once every few days.
And I'm sure the spanish teacher does too. She thought Roddy's nut song was cute. Because Roddy Macklin was cute.
And I was so not in Rod's league.
I ran into Rod somewhere in my late twenties. He was still cool. And I still thought he was cool. And thus it happened that Rod Macklin and I never became friends as adults. Because I never saw Rod as a person. Only as a really cool kid who had the guts to sing a stupid song in the middle of spanish class and not care what anybody thought.
So here I am, halfway along in my journey to the nursing home, and Rod's peanut song is clogging up my brain. Along with every line uttered in five seasons of Sex and the City. And the entirety of the Maryland Rules of Evidence.
And now, thanks to Nathan from VMI, "you anger me" is stuck inside of my gray brain matter too.
Of course, the Sex and the City dialogue has actually proven quite helpful. Though I rarely quote the Fab Four, I often think "what would Carrie do" or "what would Miranda do" as I go about my day. Yeah, those memorized lines help me in some pretty tough girlie moments.
And the Maryland Rules of Evidence?
How could their daily usefulness not be obvious?
Pleeeeze.
Although Rod's song isn't as clearly useful as the Maryland Rules of Evidence, it does provide some guidance during those times when I'm in that awful high school mode. You know that mode. Where you feel like everybody's popular except for you? Where you fear that nobody will save you a seat at lunch? Where you hate the fact that your hair is dark or light or straight or curly or anything besides the current hair rage?
I hate those days.
But, unfortunately, high school days happen to everyone sometimes. Kind of like the occasional zit. You think you're past all of that juvenile crap and yet you're really just not.
Damn.
So that leaves us with "you anger me." The line I just can't get out of my head.
You know, this could be a very useful line. Emphasis on could be.
Yes, "you anger me" could be most useful if I would just use it.
But I don't.
Somebody pisses me off and I deny that they've pissed me off. But I get upset because I don't understand why I'm feeling bad feelings. Or why I'm thinking bad thoughts.
And I get even more upset everytime I realize that I'm upset over somebody else's actions or inactions.
And of course I never mention anything to the offending person since doing so would only make me more upset.
It's a most inefficient system. Not to mention a seriously sucky experience.
But today I may have crossed a line.
A good line, not a bad one.
Today somebody angered me. And I knew it immediately.
And I was just beside myself after the triggering event. I was beside myself because I could feel the building up of 'upset' and I hated it. I hated that I was getting upset at the beginning of a long holiday weekend. I hated that I was getting upset on such a pretty day when my hair looked decent and I had a full tank of gas. I hated that this was happening on a day when I really wanted to just be centered.
But damn. Somebody angered me and I didn't know what to do with it.
So I called my psychiatrist.
"Rhea, what would you do in this situation?"
I didn't really want to call Rhea. She was working the Friday shift even though she's usually off on Fridays. I really didn't want to crap her day up further with my emotional paralysis.
But my other psychiatrists were unavailable. Maddy was teaching, Missy was mothering, Erika was vacationing and anyone else in my cell phone memory wasn't answering.
Have I mentioned how suspicious I am of caller ID?
Anyway, Rhea was it.
"Rhea, what would you do in this situation?"
I told her the triggering situation. And Rhea told me what she would have said to the person. And Rhea said that she'd have been pissed. And Rhea said I should let it go. Even though the triggering event was both highly annoying and disrespectful to me.
I listened carefully to Rhea's wisdom. And I took to heart her advice.
But mostly I just focused on the fact that Rhea would have been pissed. If Rhea would have been pissed, then I certainly had a right to be pissed. Right?
You see, when you've been taught not to experience anger, it's difficult to recognize the feeling of anger. And it's especially difficult to recognize whether your anger's legitimate. Or reasonable. When you've been taught not to experience anger, you assume that something's wrong with you when those icky anger feelings rear their angry little heads.
But here's the key...
Once Rhea confirmed that my anger was legitimate, I got over it. I'm not sure if that's the same as letting it go, but whatever occurred was good. I was able to move on to bigger and better things like coffee, a bagel and free wi-fi at Panera. I even managed to flirt a little.
Always a good sign.
And it was sitting in Panera that I realized what I need.
Besides a guy.
And besides a new pair of beaded slides.
I need an anger hotline.
For years I thought I just needed a psychiatrist.
But a psychiatrist's a waste of forty five minutes. Assuming the 'hour' is fifty minutes, it takes four minutes to say what angered you, one minute for the psychiatrist to confirm that your anger's legitimate, and then you've got forty five minutes left to discuss your feelings of self-worth.
I don't need a psychiatrist. I've got lots of feelings of self-worth. Some are even good.
What I need are those critical five minutes to articulate my anger and get it confirmed.
Kind of like a receipt that your email's been received and read.
And I can't schedule those five minutes in advance since I have no idea when the triggering incident might happen. Yet another reason to skip the psychiatrist.
I foresee the anger hotline catching on quickly. Calls will be limited to five minutes. And no triggering incident may be discussed more than once. The caller has four minutes to describe the relevant facts of the incident and then an anger confirmation is provided. or denied.
The hotline won't be for therapy or general bitching. Its sole purpose will be confirmation that a triggering incident would anger a reasonable person.
And callers to the hotline will be kept in line with a few simple rules: First, and most important, no what ifs and no buts and DEFINITELY no even thoughs.
Say, for instance, that a confirmation of anger is denied. The caller cannot amend the description to include a 'what if' or a 'but' or an 'even though' or anything incidental. The assumption will be that all pertinent details would logically be included in that first 'most important facts' description. Incidental details will be denied based on the presumption that they weren't critical enough to warrant inclusion originally.
And callers who try to raise the same triggering incidents in future phone calls will likewise be denied. Special 'We've Already Discussed This' software will identify redundant fact patterns and the caller will be warned about the violation prior to the call being ended. For those of you whose wheels are turning, the patent on this software is already pending.
Now, I always thought the world would be different if the government provided portable listening devices and earphones to every citizen.
You know how people with earphones always seem to be in their own happy little world? Sometimes their lips move to the words of the songs in their ears. And sometimes they rock their heads in rythym to the beat. Some folks seem to be hearing a radio show or story based on their occasional laughing or nodding in agreement.
In a world of earphones, everyone could choose their own happy music or happy talk and share the sidewalks and streets while enjoying their own source of satisfaction.
It would be a happy world. A collection of people who are all happy unto themselves.
Now, add to that scenario a hotline where folks call in for five minutes of confirmation that they have a right to be angry.
If it's true that most people can move on once their feelings of anger are validated, the world could concievably be a much happier, peaceful and productive place.
In short course, one could endure a triggering event, experience anger, relate that anger to a third party and receive confirmation of the anger's legitimacy. Within just a few minutes of the offensive action, that person could be released from the burden of negativity.
Of course, the psychiatrists might not endorse the hotline. Without those forty five filler minutes, the psychiatrists might not be able to live in the manner to which they're accustomed.
Then again, if the hotlines result in less action on the psychiatrist's couches, the psychiatrists still have recourse. They can call the hotline and vent for four minutes.
And after the venting, they can get back to the real goal of psychiatry: fixing the actual nuts.