My Inner Mr. Hyde

30 Apr

For a past few days, the easiest feeling to feel has been anger for me. Honestly, it’s like one of the rarest of emotions in me, but when I’m there, all hell is about to break loose.

I am all fake smiley smiley this morning getting ready for work and walking in the rain without an umbrella with tyDi’s music blasting in my ears. I get on the train, watch the rain, try to be sad and relate to the lyrics of the songs playing – which by the way, isn’t hard to do. Nadia Ali’s lyrics at the moment are practically composed of pieces right out of my life.

So when it’s about time to get off the train, there is this huge dude standing in front of me, eyeballing the heck out of me and not ashamed I caught him doing that, and goes on to whisper something to the dude next to him making him turn my way too. Some of the most uncomfortable seconds of my life. I couldn’t wait to run off the train when it finally came to a stop.

I’m highly annoyed. Since last week, these public transit uncomfiness has increased numerous degrees. Strangers approaching with topics of conversation like the night sky being so pink or the moon being so little, being stopped to be told I just missed my train and I have to wait a few more minutes (really now!? I didn’t know that!?), graffiti sketches of guns being shown to me to get my opinion, being holla’d at, told I’m stopping all the traffic, and the friendly convenience store man out of nowhere suddenly using that creepy tone of interest rubbing his palms together… GOODNESS!!!

All time high frustrations. I mean I knew mental disorders were no myth, but I didn’t realize they were this abundant among the Chicago population either. I’ve had some “lost” customers come in at work, demanding to make use of a special offer that expired months and maybe even a year ago, and refusing to believe the promotions really are over. It’s pretty frustrating, and sometimes even scary, dealing with these people. But it’s a job and has to be done.

But for the strangers on the streets or the nice old man at the store I was nice to, who don’t hesitate in pissing me off or scaring the crap out of me, it’s annoying. I don’t know how far I am from making some creep swallow his own teeth.

I have, for a few years now, given myself another name – a part of me that is. The part that is much stronger and wiser and unafraid. And for a few months now, she was suppressed because I didn’t feel like she was needed anymore. But with how situations in my life are working out these days, it’s like my Mr. Hyde is going to come out anytime now. And won’t go away until I have given the world a piece of my mind and am able to go back to being me.

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