One could say I am reactive. One could say I am aggressive. Both statements are far too true, but lately I have to acknowledge it is only getting worse.

I don’t believe it is just me. There are certainly instances where I am reactive to what I would just consider none-driving-bastards, and those people probably don’t deserve this aggression. The justice for that aggression doesn’t exist outside of my internal anxiety of being trapped by other vehicles and getting stuck in the unnecessary traffic caused by lazy driving. The other side is there are those times, as shown by my father’s self-righteousness and self-importance, where they are simply playing cop and decide for you that you don’t have anywhere important to be, so you should be just fine stuck behind him 10mph under the limit. The very same people that bitch about liberals taking their rights, and repeat the motto of “Don’t tread on me”. They never have any issues treading on the rights of others if those rights are of no value in their lives.

In both situations, my adrenaline is rising to a point that is not necessary, and there are times I feel I crossed that line into being a bully.

Sometimes, far less often, there is good reason for that aggression. Sometimes you do have to stand-up yourself and your safety. Sometimes you have to be prepared to defend your reasoning for being a dick in demanding your space. Sometimes, you can’t help feeling the local government is going out of their way to foster such emotional rises with absurd, and unpredictable timing of traffic signals. Sometimes, you realize you are now living in an era arming yourself is the right thing to do.

For me, it isn’t easy accepting the wisdom of carrying a weapon wherever I am exposed in Oildale, or Bakersfield proper. But, this is where I am at. I struggled with this denial. I struggled with the this reality, but it can no longer be ignored that general aggressiveness is on the rise. I can’t hide from the fact that I am starting to be singled out as an easy target for the aggression of others. I can’t hide from the fact that my aggression is too likely to be creating unknown enemies for myself, and I don’t blend in too well.

If it were just a matter of defending my own aggressive tendencies, I am willing to grapple with justice received, or justifying my actions whether it makes a difference in the long run or not. It has moved past that point. We are now in a point of time where my aggression is on the lower end of the scale when looking at the populace as a whole, and is libel to be a spark to setting off dynamite.

This will demand a change in attitude. To carry a weapon, is to carry additional patience. With the availability of defense tools, comes the need to check one’s offensive tendencies to prevent that need to defend.

It isn’t easy to consider having to tamper that rush of adrenaline because the reactiveness is rewarding. It requires accepting and living along a good amount of vehicular inability to keep myself calm, and lessen the likely hood of situations that are far removed from a requirement of violence. I have to acknowledge this will be far from simple for me, but with this reality of rising tensions, ever increasing violence, and weekly, near daily murders, I have to accept the need to speak in a far quieter voice while carrying a far bigger stick.

It is hard to think of this being a good check for my attitude, and a weapon as a calming presence. It is easy to remember despite my fears, anxiety, and paranoia bringing out the worse in me, there is a really good person under all that, that is horrified to think I may severely hurt someone. Reconciling those two opposing truths will be hard for my psyche with tools of destruction by my side. There is still that reality that this is a very stressed society I need to defend myself from, and there is that reality I need to stop contributing to that stress.

I am an extremely good person, faulty, but good. This is an extremely good society, faulty, but good. I can’t fix the faults of others, but at the very least I can strengthen myself, emotionally and physically, so when a fault within our society slips, my faults don’t have to slip with them.

It is never easy choosing the harder of struggles, but choosing this harder struggle is the struggle that will make my life easier and make the lives of those touched by me easier.

Shhhh- as I put to sleep that over-extended aggression. Shhhh- as I choose my Big Stick with a quiet sigh.

Shhhh- the lion is not needed at this time.

Duckin’ Kev