In which I have anger (mis)management.
So my brother has evidently gotten his tattoo. I knew he was going to do this, and debated with myself as to whether or not to tell the folks (who are against tattoos), but decided against it. For one thing, I don't need to do what my brother does and tattle to the parents every time my sibling does/says something I don't like. /snark
He sent a picture of it last night to my folks. It's...not a good one, IMO. (The tattoo, not the picture) But he has to live with it, so... *shrug*
More annoying to me was having my long-held suspicions confirmed: my folks weren't pleased that my brother did this, but they more or less shrugged it off with a 'meh' reaction. If that had been me? I'd have been crucified, or at the very least condescended to with a crabby lecture on how These Things Are Forever Because Removal Is Very Expensive And Painful And Girls Aren't Supposed To Get Them Because It's Gross, etc. And this unfairness pisses me off, as it always has. I've long suspected that my brother and I have been treated differently by our folks (for reasons too long to go into now, but suffice to say that a good deal of sexism and double-standard bullshit is involved), and over the years, this has been confirmed by various incidents and episodes (some of which I usually got the unpleasant end of).
(For the record, I'm not a fan of tattoos myself. The ONLY tattoos I have ever liked, and would ever even remotely consider getting - were it not for the expense and the needles involved - are Akabane's (swirly black thingamawhatsis) and Himiko's (star). But I figure I don't need to do this; I already have the GBers 'tattooed' on my heart, so to speak.)
This did, however, raise an awareness for me that I don't think I'd fully recognized or understood until now. As evidenced by my reaction above, and the fact that I am STILL bitter over Bro's wigging out over the FB fight (as referenced by my snark), I've realized I have a serious anger problem. It needs an acceptable outlet, which I don't currently have. I went to sleep irritated over this latest bit last night; I woke up today and I'm still feeling a low-level crankiness. (Some of this could be due to the monthly curse, which threatens soon, but still.) I've always had a bad temper (thanks dad); this is one of the reasons I chose not to have kids: I would inevitably take it out on them, and I refuse to inflict that kind of lifelong, even potentially deadly, damage on someone. (Verbally is bad enough; I also tend to break/hit stuff when I'm really mad.)
Most people who know me would probably say that I'm fairly peaceable; this is true to an extent. My ire generally only rises in response to a perceived injustice/unfairness, but then I have no way of constructively dealing with it - or when I try to, I get stomped back down (as evidenced in the way my brother gets to do as he pleases without much repercussion, but I stand up for myself or speak out for those he disparages, and then my parents get called in to throttle me back). You would not believe - or maybe some of you would - the amount of anger that builds and seethes over time from this sort of treatment. It reminds me of being bullied in high school, and nobody would listen to me, or they just blew me off when I did complain. There is a reason I used to fantasize - and still do, sometimes - about inflicting honest-to-God bloody revenge on people who've given me shit.
I have a sticker somewhere that says, "Depression: anger without enthusiasm." Depression - with which I have more than a passing familiarity - is commonly thought of as, well, depressing, but there is also that undercurrent of fury within it. It's the frustration of wanting to act, but being, for whatever reason/s, unable to. It's a discontent that gradually accumulates and slowly drives you mad (in more ways than one) over time.
In short, I'm a ticking bomb that needs to be defused, the sooner the better. (Or at least rewired so that my explosion is useful rather than harmful...)
He sent a picture of it last night to my folks. It's...not a good one, IMO. (The tattoo, not the picture) But he has to live with it, so... *shrug*
More annoying to me was having my long-held suspicions confirmed: my folks weren't pleased that my brother did this, but they more or less shrugged it off with a 'meh' reaction. If that had been me? I'd have been crucified, or at the very least condescended to with a crabby lecture on how These Things Are Forever Because Removal Is Very Expensive And Painful And Girls Aren't Supposed To Get Them Because It's Gross, etc. And this unfairness pisses me off, as it always has. I've long suspected that my brother and I have been treated differently by our folks (for reasons too long to go into now, but suffice to say that a good deal of sexism and double-standard bullshit is involved), and over the years, this has been confirmed by various incidents and episodes (some of which I usually got the unpleasant end of).
(For the record, I'm not a fan of tattoos myself. The ONLY tattoos I have ever liked, and would ever even remotely consider getting - were it not for the expense and the needles involved - are Akabane's (swirly black thingamawhatsis) and Himiko's (star). But I figure I don't need to do this; I already have the GBers 'tattooed' on my heart, so to speak.)
This did, however, raise an awareness for me that I don't think I'd fully recognized or understood until now. As evidenced by my reaction above, and the fact that I am STILL bitter over Bro's wigging out over the FB fight (as referenced by my snark), I've realized I have a serious anger problem. It needs an acceptable outlet, which I don't currently have. I went to sleep irritated over this latest bit last night; I woke up today and I'm still feeling a low-level crankiness. (Some of this could be due to the monthly curse, which threatens soon, but still.) I've always had a bad temper (thanks dad); this is one of the reasons I chose not to have kids: I would inevitably take it out on them, and I refuse to inflict that kind of lifelong, even potentially deadly, damage on someone. (Verbally is bad enough; I also tend to break/hit stuff when I'm really mad.)
Most people who know me would probably say that I'm fairly peaceable; this is true to an extent. My ire generally only rises in response to a perceived injustice/unfairness, but then I have no way of constructively dealing with it - or when I try to, I get stomped back down (as evidenced in the way my brother gets to do as he pleases without much repercussion, but I stand up for myself or speak out for those he disparages, and then my parents get called in to throttle me back). You would not believe - or maybe some of you would - the amount of anger that builds and seethes over time from this sort of treatment. It reminds me of being bullied in high school, and nobody would listen to me, or they just blew me off when I did complain. There is a reason I used to fantasize - and still do, sometimes - about inflicting honest-to-God bloody revenge on people who've given me shit.
I have a sticker somewhere that says, "Depression: anger without enthusiasm." Depression - with which I have more than a passing familiarity - is commonly thought of as, well, depressing, but there is also that undercurrent of fury within it. It's the frustration of wanting to act, but being, for whatever reason/s, unable to. It's a discontent that gradually accumulates and slowly drives you mad (in more ways than one) over time.
In short, I'm a ticking bomb that needs to be defused, the sooner the better. (Or at least rewired so that my explosion is useful rather than harmful...)