You Ever Just Want To Scream?
Or at least, call someone a total dipshit online?
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This could have been a well-researched, well-thought-out think piece about the nature of rage, whether anger is dangerous for us, or how to find a healthy outlet for those feelings. It could have been, but it isn’t.
I just read a truly pompous, self-righteous, delusional little piece here on Medium, which I won’t link to because they don’t deserve the attention. It was about that book ‘I’m Glad My Mom Died’ which has the internet all aflutter. For the most part, the reaction I’ve seen is something like,
“The title made me think the writer must be terrible, but once I read it and learned all about the abuse I understood it!”
This is a reasonable response, in my opinion at least. However, the piece I just read suggested that the author, Jennette McCurdy, shouldn’t speak ill of her mother now she isn’t around to defend herself, and that she probably enjoyed aspects of growing up a child star so her life really hasn’t been so bad!
That’s a yikes and a half.
I took the time to write a polite, if slightly passive-aggressive, comment. I considered the writer’s points and wrote something that they may think about for a moment before scoffing and moving on.
The thing is, I wanted to write something along the lines of:
“You absolute, dumb fuckwit! You are a complete piece of shit who knows nothing about anything! Get off the internet until you’ve gained an education that makes your opinion even a little bit worthwhile, because right now all you’re doing is talking out of your ass, dipshit!”
but I didn’t. I didn’t say that, because I knew that comment would be even less worth typing than what they had written.
Still, I spend so much of my time catering to others’ needs, that sometimes I just want to give myself a moment to be totally selfish, and scream.
We’re all entitled to our opinions, and we’re entitled to shout about them as much as we want. Some opinions are dangerous though, and I think if an abuse victim were on the fence about speaking up and they read that piece, they may decide to keep quiet; that’s the type of dangerous I mean.
That’s all I wanted to say on this really. There’s nothing profound here, just a gentle rant about stupid people, and my desire not to stoop to their level, no matter how great the temptation.
When is a time you contained yourself when you really wanted to explode with rage? How did you handle it instead?
