F@CK!
Throwing the nearest object across the room to disturb the flow of heat and aggression bubbling from within like the streams of lava oozing from the island of Hawaii.
I was born this way…
A bustling team of aggressive bees all in a “tissy” as my mother would refer.
She always had a different way to say things that were easy to grasp and equally silly.
But she is where this “naturally aggressive” state was inherited from.
I grew up with something in me.
The tv series Dexter put it best as “the dark passenger.”
Joe Rogan on his podcast put it as “naturally aggressive.”
These are all great ways to name it but don’t go far in describing. So I will do my best to describe what it is like…….
Drum Roll Please!
ALWAYS PISSED THE F@CK OFF!
Now the first thing I want to make clear is that being angry all the time doesn’t have to be negative.
On a recent episode of Doctor Phil’s Podcast I learned that the same pathways that create excitement in the brain are the same as crippling anxiety. The glee of a child the evening before and morning of Christmas is the same as the doom of a wretched feeding frenzy in the mind. The difference is choice I suppose. Involuntary but a choice none the less.
Being aggressive to me is the same as passion. It is just cooked at a different temperature. So depending on the cuisine being prepared can result in a bitter or tasty dish.
Imagine what it must to be like to be Superman daily as he plays his alter ego Clark Kent. This being of immense strength must treat everything like an egg or a simple sneeze could blow up a building. In no way is an aggressive predisposition anything like a superhuman strength, but what is similar is the mindfulness of daily life.
When I recognize I am in a more aggressive state I have to slow myself down in every action I perform that day as to not disturb the beakers of combustible liquids in a lab as it were.
Those days anything can set me off but I must be vigilant. No one deserves your sh@tty feels. So I take it seriously that I’m the one with this sickness or ability so I must honor the responsibility.
One of my favorite tools is a combination of a resting bitch face (or dick face depending on how you identify) and a healthy detachment.
This allows me to have laser focus on a task at hand. Being able to tune out the world around me. Not be unaware, but distant.
Where would such intensity come from?
I have thought of such a question recently as I am starting to help my mother document her life. This woman has been through some sh@t and is what I think is the reason for the genetic crassness.
My mother’s upbringing was filled with fear and constant uncertainty. The lessons don’t end for her after a rough childhood though. Those are stories for her to share.
It seems as if, because my mother lived such stress, maybe her body built a reactionary survival gene expression that would allow me to be born with vast energy like this passion of mine.
This seems so likely because my sister is similar.
Though my mom’s experience wasn’t the beginning of this genetic heat. This is an heirloom passed down through at least 3 generations like an old ring. My grandmother had a fire in her as well. And per my mom’s stories great grandma was a violent drinker. This rage has aged like wine, with each generation like a sommelier with an ancient recipe making their own modern changes.
These of course are possible overthought theories, but for the human body to be able to alter its genes to evolve to be more aware or resilient is a fascinating venture. I choose to see my aggressive passion as a gift, but like a flame can sustain warmth in the cold so too can it burn a forest down.
Mr. Sods 