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
