On Controlling Yourself
There are days where I wish I could be bad when things are going bad.
An eye for an eye.
I wish I could, in a frenzy, slosh my hands around my massive L.L. Bean tote, grab a pack of cigarettes, tap it hard on my hand to make sure the tobacco is evenly distributed, place the cigarette in my mouth like a toddler would with a pacifier, flick open a Zippo lighter, and take a draw.
I wish I could, after a rough day, walk into a bar, nod to the bartender and request the usual, and sip on it while taking a shot with a stranger-turned-friend at the bar next to me.
I wish I could, with no care about others around me, moan and groan, and say comeeeee onnnn, what is going onnnn? Outloud in a Larry David-esque way, when the subway randomly stops for 5 minutes or longer. I’ve been told I can be, uh, impatient.
I wish I could, in all confidence, walk into a Dunkin Donuts and order two dozen of chocolate frosted donuts and eat both boxes in one setting. And then stop by McDonald’s for two large fries with 89 packets of Hot Mustard for something salty to even out the sweet-to-savory ratio, duh.
Oh how I wish I could, rightfully so, destroy that woman at the nail salon, that uppidy-Upper-East-Sider, viscerally with my words to make her feel small. And not just because, but because she was completely patronizing her pedicurist for not agreeing with her on what color “baby blue” was. I’ll never forget her complete condescension, fussiness, and the sense of entitlement this woman had. It was disgusting. Awful. She only humiliated herself. So yeah, she deserved to be eviscerated with visceral comments—in my opinion.
Yet, I don’t do these things. I’ve never done these things. And, in my bones and to who I am at my core, I don’t really want to do these things.
But some days? Some days I do. I can’t lie. I believe it would be liberating to let loose for just a millisecond.
Wouldn’t that be relieving?
I imagine it would feel like the first sip of a nearly-freezing cold Coca-Cola or Pibb Extra. You feel it in your veins. A nice sigh of relief.
I don’t do these things because I, of course, believe they are not the right or the best or the most healthy ways to handle the stress, frustrations, or struggles that life inevitably, and often, brings.
And yeah, there are people who do handle things in the ways I mentioned earlier: to each their own.
But I really, really try to handle things in a healthier way. I feel that it is always more rewarding. More healthy. More peaceful.
To turn the other cheek.
To keep my opinions to myself.
To take the high road.
To rise above it.
To let it roll off my back.
To hold my horses.
This is my common practice. My homeostasis. My religion. My morals. My way of dealing. My self-control.
And in times of adversity, anxiety, and good ole’ fashion frustration, I slap on my Garmin, lace up, and hit the pavement.
It’s so weird saying something like that and actually meaning it.
I never thought I’d be the person who would say working out made me feel better. Let alone, going on a literal RUN made me feel better. And by feeling better—I don’t mean in the way of striving to have a hot bod or anything like that (it is certainly a nice plus) but to actually feel better by having a clear mind and tension-less body. It’s allowing myself to have a hard reset and some alone time to process whatever it is I need to process. Exercise has completely shifted my perspective and running has, in every sense of the phrase, changed my life; physically and mentally.
So yeah, are there days where things get to me and I want to take the easy route? Abso-freaking-lutely. But I know if I actually took this route, it would do nothing. It would only make me feel worse. It wouldn’t do anything to help me or the situation in any way.
“He who conquers himself is the mightiest warrior.”
-Confucius
On the days you want to go coo-coo for coco puffs, how do you deal? How do you handle? How do you control yourself?
Always,
Jade