Anger. Never ignore it. Never ignore the things that make you angry. Never ignore the depressed thoughts that arise in your mind. They can lead to anger. I didnt follow this advice. I ignored the following:
I hate my new (budget cut) work schedule. It involves showing up to library branches cold and getting pushed around and told what to do non-professional staff. This is humiliating. In theory the moment I walk in as substitute staff my rank as a Librarian Two should make me the assistant branch manager. Im the one with the masters degree not the slobs at the circulation desk. This has happened too much and Ive laughed it off. It feels like I have been demoted and, in terms of my duties I have.
I live in a house with an 82-year-old cripple, a two year old and woman who is 8 1/2 months pregnant. I work full time but the minute I walk in the door at home stuff gets dumped in my lap to take care off.
I have all the usual expectant father anxieties and they are massive.
My country has just been involved in two wars, the economy is shit and getting worse in California, the current government is the most totalitarian in my memory, and the voices of dissent are limited and stifled by the corporate media.
I may not be able to present my paper at the British Sociological Association Conference because of shear poverty and the cost of the plane ticket. I wasnt even acknowledging this to myself, or all the career frustrations tied to it.
About the only thing Ive allowed myself to vent about has been the political situation.
A couple nights ago I had a particularly hard day at work where I had to use my authority with older more experienced staff. I came home and my mom waves a letter at me regarding a dispute with the neighbors gardener. I read it and congratulated her on the good news. She freaks and said that it was terrible news and my older brother had said blah blah blah about it. (I hate being compared to my much older wealthier brother). My two-year grabbed my leg and said Daddy! I want to go to the park! over and over. My wife said she had she had a letter to type anyway. So I grabbed a soda and chips (I was starving) telling my son we needed snacks for our walk. My son, was supposedly sick, got a burst of energy and took me on a two hour hike. When we finally got back. I asked my wife if she had called her mother about babysitting tonight so we could go to the movies, wed talked about it on the way home.) She snapped at me for being gone so long and pointed out we hadnt had dinner yet and told me that everything I came up with for us to do was just stuff I wanted to do and she never got to do anything. (She really is feeling like crap with this pregnancy).
The next half-hour was ugly! Highlights of my fit were:
Me screaming about my job being horrible, and my last chance at research in my field being destroyed over a fucking plane ticket. I believe a thoroughly melodramatic I hate my whole life I want to be dead was in the mix. I broke a chair. I left shoe marks on several doors from kicking them, and I had a huge fight with my wife.
Justified? Bullshit. All I did was fuck up my life and other peoples. Id had depressive moods for three days leading up to this but I didnt take the time to meditate and contemplate the causes of these emotions. They are all empty in the ultimate sense and I know this if I take the time see it. I am Buddhist. I have been taught how to deal with my own mind, but I havent meditated in months. I really need to take care of my mind more.
I hate my new (budget cut) work schedule. It involves showing up to library branches cold and getting pushed around and told what to do non-professional staff. This is humiliating. In theory the moment I walk in as substitute staff my rank as a Librarian Two should make me the assistant branch manager. Im the one with the masters degree not the slobs at the circulation desk. This has happened too much and Ive laughed it off. It feels like I have been demoted and, in terms of my duties I have.
I live in a house with an 82-year-old cripple, a two year old and woman who is 8 1/2 months pregnant. I work full time but the minute I walk in the door at home stuff gets dumped in my lap to take care off.
I have all the usual expectant father anxieties and they are massive.
My country has just been involved in two wars, the economy is shit and getting worse in California, the current government is the most totalitarian in my memory, and the voices of dissent are limited and stifled by the corporate media.
I may not be able to present my paper at the British Sociological Association Conference because of shear poverty and the cost of the plane ticket. I wasnt even acknowledging this to myself, or all the career frustrations tied to it.
About the only thing Ive allowed myself to vent about has been the political situation.
A couple nights ago I had a particularly hard day at work where I had to use my authority with older more experienced staff. I came home and my mom waves a letter at me regarding a dispute with the neighbors gardener. I read it and congratulated her on the good news. She freaks and said that it was terrible news and my older brother had said blah blah blah about it. (I hate being compared to my much older wealthier brother). My two-year grabbed my leg and said Daddy! I want to go to the park! over and over. My wife said she had she had a letter to type anyway. So I grabbed a soda and chips (I was starving) telling my son we needed snacks for our walk. My son, was supposedly sick, got a burst of energy and took me on a two hour hike. When we finally got back. I asked my wife if she had called her mother about babysitting tonight so we could go to the movies, wed talked about it on the way home.) She snapped at me for being gone so long and pointed out we hadnt had dinner yet and told me that everything I came up with for us to do was just stuff I wanted to do and she never got to do anything. (She really is feeling like crap with this pregnancy).
The next half-hour was ugly! Highlights of my fit were:
Me screaming about my job being horrible, and my last chance at research in my field being destroyed over a fucking plane ticket. I believe a thoroughly melodramatic I hate my whole life I want to be dead was in the mix. I broke a chair. I left shoe marks on several doors from kicking them, and I had a huge fight with my wife.
Justified? Bullshit. All I did was fuck up my life and other peoples. Id had depressive moods for three days leading up to this but I didnt take the time to meditate and contemplate the causes of these emotions. They are all empty in the ultimate sense and I know this if I take the time see it. I am Buddhist. I have been taught how to deal with my own mind, but I havent meditated in months. I really need to take care of my mind more.
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