Yesterday, I was at the doctor. It was my first appointment with her, and long, grotesque story short, she ended up administering a Generalized Anxiety questionnaire. The question was asked how often are you easily irritated and/or annoyed, none of the time, someone of the time, half the time, more than half of the time or almost every day. Surprisingly, I answered the question honesty, because you know, an anxious person doesn’t want to be labelled as such. So, I said most of the time. (But that wasn’t an option.) I figured I’d give the doctor an opportunity to use her judgement.
The look on her face when I answered was totally hilarious. She said I didn’t seem the type. All I could do was shrug. I didn’t feel like telling her that as a mental health professional, I’ve been taught to keep my reactions to a minimum; she doesn’t need to know the industry secrets. Then, for a second I thought perhaps, I’m not actually THAT irritable. It was actually longer than a second, because as I drove home I was still thinking perhaps, just perhaps, the doctor was correct.
She wasn’t of course. I mean how often does the doctor actually know what she’s talking about? (Hint: Not that often.) I kid. It’s a joke. Despite my distaste of going to the doctor, I do think they know stuff and at least 60% of the time know what they’re talking about. Right… I’m waaaay off topic. Back to the rageohol. Driving. That’s all that it takes to get me irritated. “All that it takes.” A study was just released saying Seattle has the worst drivers in the US. I know the arguments about how Seattle has so many people from all over, and thus there are too many driving styles. Blah, blah blah. The fact remains driving in Seattle sucks ass and makes me angry.
By angry I mean, vein in neck bursting, eye bulging shrieking. I could go on about how sometimes I wish my car were a tank so I could just run over the people in my way and have access to guns to blow people up. I don’t think you’d ever describe me as “peace-loving”. But normally, as I mentioned earlier, I’m able to control the emotional reaction. Yet I get me behind the wheel, and suddenly I weave a tapestry of profanity like a pro. It’s quite incredible really. Even thinking about it, gets my heart beating faster.
One of the worst things is when my clients complain about driving in Seattle. And they talk about some pretty horrible road rage incidents. All I want to say to them is that it is totally normal to yell and flip people off. I realize that they’re triggered and have anger issues. BUT sometimes, it’s called for. That’s all I want to say. But noooo. I have to not collude with them. I have to help them figure out why they’re getting triggered and not tell them that there’s an evil spirit in Seattle that makes everyone a shitty driver. EVERYONE. Yes, I’m included in that as well. I’ll admit it. I’m an angry and terrible driver. At least I can admit it. That counts for something, right?