I spent Sunday cleaning house and doing laundry. I had pretty much ignored that shit since I crashed my car, and it had gotten pretty horrific.
Granted, I was nowhere near qualified for an episode of hoarders, but it was bad. Dust, papers, dirty clothes; you know, just scattered shit.
Considering I live in a magic bus, you'd think it wouldn't take long, right?
I quit counting at the 5 hour mark.
And I'm still not done.
I hid a lot of shit; Sunshine's company paperwork and receipts still need to be filed, with the next influx due to arrive Thursday. (I hid the piles inside the chest that hides the files and doubles as a coffee table.)
Laundry is momentarily done. That'll change soon. Bwahaha
The house isn't all that got cleaned.
The mental cleaning got done, too. That anger I'd been dealing with?
Well, the sources of it continued doing what they had been doing, except they took it to the next level. My initial reaction was defcon-5. The adrenaline seriously gave me chest pains; the kind of chest pains that leave your left arm feeling dead and your chest feeling like Sunshine parked his truck on it. Just dull pressure-type pain. (After 5 years and counting of daily NSAIDs, what do we expect? I'll keep taking my chances, narcotics are a last resort for a recovering addict.)
But some of the specifics of the situation caused me to stop and think. After an afternoon of soul - searching (while cleaning my magic bus), I realized that these fuckers who are pissing me off are normally the fuckers about whom I never think unless life brings them into my face (or the conversation, generally because someone else brought it up).
I had to look at why I was so angry. My anger is always my reaction to fear or pain. Pain can be physical or mental; mental pain involves some level of caring about the source of the pain.
These two fuckers causing my anger didn't hurt me. I don't give them a though most days because I just don't give a shit about either one of them.
Which leaves fear.
Yep, they disturbed my serenity and had me fearing what might come next.
Fuck 'em. I know the number to 911 and will use it. (If so much as a tree falls on my magic bus, I will use the number to 911 and play the voice mails Sunshine got to have someone arrested for it, I promise. Insurance covers the damage, and then goes after the cause of the damage whenever possible.)
So I realized that ultimately, I have nothing to really fear. I just don't know what these fuckers will do next, which drives me batshit crazy but doesn't cause fear.
No more anger. Just a sick part of me that won't forget, and will consider getting revenge if the opportunity arises.
Because I have a sponsor that will tell me to make amends for vengeance, I am surgically removing the sources of anger from my consciousness. Smart-limits from at&t has allowed me to block them from calling me or texting me. Sunshine is working on the rest of the surgical extraction for us, as it involves his 'domain' (read that to mean his areas of responsibility in the relationship/partnership), and 911 can handle any unexpected invasions.
Bam. Back to my regularly scheduled peaceful life. And cleaning my magic bus.