Anyone got an issue?

My brother sent me two books at Christmas. 

One Day – David Nicholls

The Dance of Anger – Harriet Lerner PhD

I’ve been saving these up – will start reading them this week after library books go back.

Literary ladies and gentlemen amongst you have probably heard of the first (same writer of Cold Feet for TV amongst other works) but the second, you’ll be astounded to discover, is about dealing with anger, focusing on the female variety.

The back cover says

“anger is an important emotion that is often a cover for feelings of hurt, frustration or violation, and this misdirected anger can surface destructively as self–criticism, denial or guilt.” Hmmm. Might have a point there.  Self–criticism and guilt sound faintly familiar. A while back, and fuzzy, but memorable enough not to be ignored.

The front cover says that Susie Orbach thinks it’s “a careful and compassionate exploration of women’s anger”.

My brother only became aware of the book via a psychotherapy friend of his, and thought it sounded interesting and challenging – and halfway through he wondered whether I might get something out of it –  well, since my life has been a bit upside down for the last year or five.  Or ten?  Something like that.

Do I have issues?  Ooooh, probably lots of them but I don’t really notice. So I’m not categorically saying whether I’ve dealt with them and moved on (my preferred choice), or conveniently ignored them, or deliberately stuffed them somewhere which will explode unexpectedly one day like a W W 2 bomb in the cellar. Usually I’m too preoccupied with what I need to get on with next, and so fine that when I answered the phone a couple of months ago my best friend said “How come you’re always so damn HAPPY ?”  I started laughing, just delighted with myself for having the right vibes, and telling her I don’t know why….. not the foggiest. I get up in the morning happy, and try to make sure I’m the same way by bedtime, just like everybody else.

Be reassured.  I am not one of those titterers-at-anything, the type you can hear squeaking at high frequency every 30 seconds across the room at a party.  And if you discount the mad annual fortnight down the Big Hole, it’s true that I’m naturally a happy person. Unflappable (wouldn’t have been much use in the Mayday Search and Rescue business otherwise), good at fire–fighting (literally), driving in hostile conditions, catching huge spiders with my bare hands, unworried by creepy crawlies, needle injections, mice, even (as you know by now) the odd rat, easy to live with, easy to live without – HA !!......    Did we stumble on the first issue there? Break–ups are categorised in so many styles and time–frames. I’ll just say my last one took about eight or nine years because I’m persistent, a bridge–builder, an optimist and an eejit.

I suppose there are things which could qualify as issues – death of father when I was twenty (five weeks before my wedding), the early and short 3–year marriage (initially unaware he was violent and manic–depressive), the loss of two out of three brothers, a couple of close encounters with the almighty later on – but I don’t see these as problems, just facts. I’m absolutely NOT wearing a halo but navel–gazing is too much hard work of the wrong kind. This post is as close as it gets, and only prompted by that book arriving.  If there was something to deal with, I like to think I did. Successfully. Full stop. Let’s see how it looks when I’ve read the book. I’ll let you know.

Going to post this before I get all coy again and change my mind.

At the moment, having a ferocious cold for three days now following the triple–flu–jab, and feeling justifiably aggrieved because it’s the first cold in twenty–odd years, it’s more a case of “Anyone got a tissue?” I bet you saw that coming.