(this was written last night, by the way)

When I woke up I felt my normal happy self. But soon, everything changed.

I had an early situation which warranted some anger. Basically a work thing popped up unexpectedly that had me thinking I was being attacked by a certain employee. I lost my cool but took five minutes to calm down before acting. I sent a polite but firm email and received a nasty one back. The coworker called me immediately after and we worked it out over the next fifteen minutes. I still had slight residual anger but I felt better. I have 100% confidence it will get resolved.

I also spent a few hours in traffic today due to a snowfall, but normally that wouldn’t bother me. A mild annoyance. Sure I only went a total of sixteen miles, but I have Sirius/XM and can just zone out listening to the comedy stations.

For some reason, though, the cars next to mine bothered me. I fantasized about smashing into many of them. And I never have road rage.

The air temperature which normally has little effect on me was chilling to my core. I hated the snow and sludge under my boots. I was cold outside, and hot in the car.

I found myself criticizing thoughts that popped into my head. Other people’s decisions, my own mistakes, music that came on the radio. Nothing was good. I was uncomfortable.

I even did a thirty minute meditation which, during that time, removed the negativity. As soon as I popped back to life all the darkest thoughts were there waiting for me.

My girlfriend and I attended a Mac and Cheese contest later in the day. This is one of those events where twenty people compete with unique recipes. I was excited to go. All the food tasted just “okay” to me. I know my mood was affecting my ability to enjoy taste.

We then went to an NBA game – third row tickets. Both of us hadn’t seen the Bulls play in over ten years. This was supposed to be an exciting event.

Thankfully I popped my ADD med right before the game started and the mild euphoria side-effect did kick in for most of the game. But after the final buzzer I was slammed back into my dark reality.

Just a few minutes ago, back home, my girlfriend bumped her knee hard into the coffee table. We were on hold with her internet customer service at the time, and I just stared at her blankly while she moaned in pain. I knew I should be feeling sympathy for her, but it wasn’t showing up.

Since I’ve been so negative all day, I’ve also had self-judgment about these thoughts and behaviors.

I’ve been critical of myself that, in theory, this should be a great day! I have a loving woman who supports me, I’m healthy and can pay the bills, and I’m lucky to get invited to food events and basketball games. There’s plenty to be thankful for and not anything that we’d all agree was worthy of my reactions.

The darkness felt physical, as if I had no control over it psychologically. Women go through hormonal changes every month that affect their mood without consent. Maybe something like that was going on with me. This was weird.

Since there’s nothing tangible that is looming over my head, I suspect all of these feelings will be gone by morning. I don’t generally wake up with sadness, fear, or anger. I like the mornings and often dance a little on the way from the bed to the bathroom.

My girlfriend put it succinctly. “You’re having a bad day.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make sense.”

She shrugged. To her, having a bad day is acceptable even when there’s no logic to support the feelings.

As a guy I want to figure things out. Did I do something goofy nutritionally? Did the no-sunlight thing make this happen? Would working out have fixed it? If I would have done psychological exercises, could this have turned me around? I have no answers.

It’s now the end of the night and I’m exhausted. It’s tough being such an asshole all day.

Going to wake up tomorrow and feel better and never know why this happened.

photo credit: country_boy_shane via photopin cc

She, naturally, had the mistaken belief that she was not a snorer. I woke up in the middle of that night to what appeared to be a log splitter set to maximum strength chugging away three inches from my face. Since I don’t find snoring repulsive or an impediment to my asleep, I wasn’t bothered. I found myself laughing at a the idea that a beautiful woman was doing something so traditionally non-graceful.

I carefully reached over to the side-table, grabbed my phone and set the voice app to “record.” Forty seconds later I had impressive evidence which was presented to her the next morning.

She laughed, thank God.

We all have our insecurities, but this wasn’t one of hers.

This got me to thinking about my own insecurities.

One of my main fears is that I’m “bad.” That I’m a screw-up. That I’ll destroy everything good in my life. That I’ll hurt others irreparably. That you’ll see what a piece of garbage I am and run away. Then I’ll be all alone and not exist.

Or something like that.

Now, this train of thought is not logical, and there isn’t a lot of real-world evidence to support it. But that’s the things with emotional wounds. They’re invisible and gaping and absolute despite the facts.

So there’s a constant battle between my logical mind (the rational part of me that knows this is nonsense) and the emotional wounded child who feels as if he’s “defective.”

Sadly, emotion trumps reason.

Example – I was on a camping trip with some of my best friends. They constantly bust balls. One of them told a story about how, thirteen years ago, I had been staying at his apartment by myself for a weekend. Apparently I had ordered an adult feature (I don’t remember this but it’s not inconceivable) and left him some money on the kitchen counter with a note. The problem was that this apartment was not owned by my friend. It was the property of a NBA head coach and his wife. Who paid all the bills.

My friend received a call from the owners (who are friends with his family) laughing at him for ordering a skin flick on their account. He had to tell them that his douchebag friend was the culprit.

Now, I didn’t know this story when it was being told at the campsite. I, however, wasn’t able to laugh at myself like my girlfriend and her snoring.

It triggered a “D.J. was a bad boy” wound and I nearly crumbled. While everyone was having a laugh on me, I felt like they had just confirmed I was a piece of shit. They, of course, thought no such thing. It was just a funny story to them.

I was so out of my mind that first I denied the entire event. Truth was that I didn’t remember it, but it probably happened. Then I profusely apologized to my friend. You would have thought I was making amends for wheeling his grandmother into traffic. This overreaction was noticed. My friend assured me that this had been long forgiven and that it wasn’t a big deal in the first place.

Even writing it now I feel terrible. No, it’s not logical. And no, I hadn’t even done anything really wrong. But it feels otherwise. Even now.

I don’t know how to heal these wounds. I believe it has to do with self-forgiveness, but damned if I’m any good at that.

Maybe I can practice now.

Here goes: I forgive myself for ordering Car Wash Babes IV back in 2001. And I’m not bad for wanting to see naked women with sponges – that is a normal and natural desire for a man.

However, maybe I was wrong for sitting on my friend’s couch during this viewing, because, well…

Yep.