I have to be honest here. On Monday I told you I was inspired by the words in Ray Bradbury’s book. What I didn’t tell you is that I challenged myself to the same challenge I issued on the blog. I decide to think about what matters to me. I decided to find that one thing that inflames my enthusiasm.
Being a content and almost apathetic person – finding my passions proved more difficult that I expected. Try to understand, I’m not a person prone to emotion, of any kind, good or bad.
My mom would tell you that I stated this life with too much emotion that needed to be expressed. She tells stories of me as an infant screaming for hours on end for no evident reason. She tells of having a neighbor come over to hold me while she did dishes because I wouldn’t stop screaming if she put me down. Until the age of 10 I was the queen of the temper tantrum. I remember times when I was so angry my face burned red and I swore I would feel better if I could just get smoke to come out of my ears. No luck with that one.
So what happened? What happened to the passionate nature that exhibited itself in extreme love and extreme temper?
Therapy happened I’m sad to say. Losing your temper, throwing things and exploding on people tends to make adults uncomfortable. So part of my parents getting divorced was family therapy for the lot of us. For me family therapy was turned into individual sessions to learn how to control myself.
Guess what? It worked. I now have consummate control. Road rage is not a concern. I don’t let myself get emotionally attached to boyfriends or casual affairs. I do not rage or lose my temper – ever.
I also do not care about much of anything.
So I challenged you to find the one thing or even the second thing that you care about, the thing that causes fevers and inflames your passions.
Being a content and almost apathetic person – finding my passions proved more difficult that I expected. Try to understand, I’m not a person prone to emotion, of any kind, good or bad.
My mom would tell you that I stated this life with too much emotion that needed to be expressed. She tells stories of me as an infant screaming for hours on end for no evident reason. She tells of having a neighbor come over to hold me while she did dishes because I wouldn’t stop screaming if she put me down. Until the age of 10 I was the queen of the temper tantrum. I remember times when I was so angry my face burned red and I swore I would feel better if I could just get smoke to come out of my ears. No luck with that one.
So what happened? What happened to the passionate nature that exhibited itself in extreme love and extreme temper?
Therapy happened I’m sad to say. Losing your temper, throwing things and exploding on people tends to make adults uncomfortable. So part of my parents getting divorced was family therapy for the lot of us. For me family therapy was turned into individual sessions to learn how to control myself.
Guess what? It worked. I now have consummate control. Road rage is not a concern. I don’t let myself get emotionally attached to boyfriends or casual affairs. I do not rage or lose my temper – ever.
I also do not care about much of anything.
So I challenged you to find the one thing or even the second thing that you care about, the thing that causes fevers and inflames your passions.
I hope you had better luck that I did.
I’m still looking.
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1 comment:
WOW!
U sound just like me. Minus the therapy. My mom checked the temper tantrums as a kid but I am (was) a very passionate person. Something I had to learn to check.
First it was temper.
Then it was my passion for individuals (boyfriends, friends, families, casual affairs)
Now it's so hard for me to get attached to anyone or anything. I'm so mellow that it's a running joke int he family, "Mika said she liked something. WOW. It must be the best thing ever!"
So I feel you. Learning a middle ground is hard. And the men in my life don't take to kindly to my mellowness. They wanna know why I won't let myself "feel" anything.
All i can ever answer is: I just can't.
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