Kicking and Screaming

In bed last night, I laid awake for reasons far from typical. The lack of sleep last night was not caused by the excitement of wedding plans or a caffeine rush from the 5 diet sunkists I drank throughout the day (yes, caffeine still has an effect on my body…and yes, I know that drinking so much soda is unhealthy). My “insomnia” was a mysterious noise coming from the wall separating me from a family of four. It started slow with a small thump. I thought nothing of the first noise and figured they were shutting a closet or putting something away. Then, two big thumps alerted me. What the heck is going on over there?! THUMP…THUMP…THUMP… thump. thump. thump. thump. Silence. THUMP…thump thump thump thump thump…THUMP. After much speculation, I determined that my neighbor child was throwing a fit. (The crying and whining helped me come to my conclusion, as well) It made me think back to all the times that I had laid on the ground, or my bed, as a child and kicked the wall in a rhythm that just seemed right to release the amount of frustration I was feeling. It always helped. So what’s my point…am I going to start kicking the wall when I’m frustrated again…probably not.

For me, kicking the wall was a way to help me focus. Granted I was probably sorting out the ideas in a very egocentric way (and still do) causing the kicking to become harder and harder with more frustration, but it always got me to the breaking point. The kicking became harder and harder until it made me so upset that I had to give up and realize my poor behavior. Though currently the catalyst for my frustrations come from much different things than a child’s, I think my behavior is still similar. Rather than kicking a wall, my outlet is, most often, journaling.

When I think back to journal entries I wrote during times of my highest frustration, they always started off by saying that I’m frustrated (small thump). I then wrote the outline of what happened (THUMP, THUMP). Next, I filled in more details of how this occurrence was so wrong (THUMP… THUMP…THUMP), how it effected me (thump. thump. thump), and…(silence)…why it was wrong (THUMP). Typically, I’d follow by going into details about how I could never do this wrong thing (thump thump thump thump thump). I also seemed to ask the question "how could this happen to me?" (THUMP). Once my rant was over, I loosened the grip on my pen and I began to realize that I'd been guilty of the same thing before or that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't looking at the other side justly. All that frustration turned into conclusions with more understanding or at least a little more empathy than the beginning of the entry. It takes me a little while to move past my stubborn thoughts. A part of me will always be that little kid kicking the wall…and, as long as I eventually understand, I think I’m ok with that.