Anger
Scott Mclean
Today’s subject is anger and conflict.
When I was in school I was generally somewhat shy and non-confrontational. I started changing my attitude towards conflict my senior year. The first few years after high school and into my early twenties was an ornery stage.
I did not avoid scraps and got in a few. In my defense, I did not bully others but went after the bullies. I had no hesitancy to fight and got into scraps with groups of 2 or more on several occasions. I got a reputation of someone not to mess with.
A big change from my quiet younger years.
I think letting people push me around allowed the anger and potential for violence to grow.
Friends told me I would smile and laugh in the middle of a rough fight. Maybe what my Scottish ancestors called going fey or a berserker from my Scandinavian side.
My brother Steve and I might get in a tussle but no one else better touch us or the other would jump in to help. He gave me my first broken nose and I threw him through a dividing wall. Mom was not happy. We would be right back to joking around soon after.
We get older and things change. You begin to mellow out and the monster gets hidden inside. He emerged a few times when someone threatened a family member.
Now I am crippled up and my scrapping days are only a memory. I have to remember that I can no longer walk over and get someone in a headlock.
Lilli found a shirt that says too old to fight, too fat to run, but I can still shoot. Kind of sums me up. I wonder if they make holsters or scabbards for wheelchairs?
I force myself to be nice to people even if I don’t like them. There is a loud couple at the Y that the wife got rude and pushy with me on several occasions. I decided conflict with them did no good and that I should just ignore them.
Due to my back injury I can work better in the deeper end. Lilli also tells me I need to stay at the edge so I can grab on when a nerve spasm hits and my legs quit working for a moment. If they see me getting in the pool they immediately take full possession of the corners and far edge of the pool. When this happens I just crouch lower and can crab walk in the middle of the therapy pool. At first I would get angry inside but then decided it’s better to laugh it off. I have even gone so far as to say good morning and have a nice day. The husband replies in kind but the wife just glares at me and mumbles. I just let it go and go about my business but the inner warrior in me wants to say “Were you born this bitchy or do you have to work at it?” I keep him controlled and just smile.
I think the change in attitude for me is part maturing and part just wearing out.
Enough of the story about the inner me and hopefully more humor next time. Bye.