How to Be Optimistic When You’re Angry at the World
Have you ever felt pissed off at the entire, bloody world?
Have you ever broiled with rage because it seems like no matter how hard you try, things never seem to go the way you think they should?
Have you ever wanted to explode with fury because although you were working hard and playing by the rules, you felt you were getting nowhere?
Have you ever wanted to smack the crap out of someone you think has the life you want?
Yep. Me, too.
I’ve been feeling like this quite a bit lately. It’s not the normal me. It’s the angry me.
It might have something to do with hormones. It might have something to do with the weather. According to Google, my rage might have something to do with a billion other things.
Last week, I had talked myself into thinking it is the world that is not being fair and doing enough for me.
This week, I think it has to do with me.
I am angry at me for not being smart enough. Not charismatic enough. Not clever enough. Not good enough.
I don’t feel like I’m…enough.
It’s me making myself angry at the world.
And as much as I want to point the finger at God, at the homeless guy on my street corner or at you, the thing I need to pay the most attention to are the three fingers pointing right back at me.
This is really about me.
Why are you angry at the world?
Is it really everyone else out there who is doing “that thing” to you?
Or could it be just you, too?
How can you be optimistic when you’re angry at the world?
It sucks. I don’t want to be optimistic. I want to be pissed.
But then I don’t want to feel this furious all the time because it’s draining. And crap starts happening. All this anger starts manifesting in my life and on my face.
Last Tuesday, I got an angry pimple on my chin. It was so big, it literally had a pulse. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw my anger reflected back at me.
Then, on Wednesday, as I was driving home from lunch with some friends, I got the first flat I’ve had in years. When I furiously stopped to inspect it, my tire indignantly hissed back at me in the 115 degree heat.
“Why do things just keep getting worse? Why is this happening to me? Can’t everything just start going my way?”
I thought to myself.
Now that I’ve calmed down, given myself some time, and taken some action, I see that the big, bad world really isn’t that mean. I’m the mean one. I’m being too hard on myself, and it’s starting to take a toll.
I’m tired. I have bags under my eyes. I’m not enjoying my life.
I’m ready to stop.
Stop being angry at the world with me.
Tell someone about your anger.
After days of hiding my pissed-offedness from my husband. I finally told him. The funny thing is, he already knew. Still though, it made me feel better because I finally got it off my chest. It made him feel better, too, because he loves me, and he wants to help. He’s happy I want the love and help he has to offer me.
There is someone who loves and wants to help you. Tell them about how you’re feeling.
Ask yourself what you want.
You are angry because you think things should be other than they are. While accepting your circumstance is important, don’t dwell in your pain, your fear and your fury. You are here to do, be and have everything you want. Remember your dreams and know they can come true.
Focus on them instead of being miserable.
Use your anger to propel you into action.
Let your anger flow. Use that negative energy to your advantage. Let it be the fuel that forces you to stop being a victim and get off your ass.
Pivot. Change your perspective. Re-tool. Re-calibrate. Make a change.
Please, just do something.
And when you still have nervous energy to spare, let it burn, baby.
Clean your garage. Sweep your floor. Turn up your music and sing at the top of your lungs. Pump some iron. Go for a run. Do some Zumba.
Release the wrath.
Life doesn’t just happen to you. You create the life you want. Start doing it.
I’m turning my anger and my life around.
Right here and right now.
Are you with me?
Sending you my wishes for a week in which you burn, baby, in the best way possible.
All my best,