Taking the edge off things

Over the years, my opinions about things have gotten milder and milder. Really, I cannot be bothered to react strongly to many things these days. I don't know, maybe it was really teenage angst and it has just gone out of my system. Like I grew out of it.

If I was fighting about some point, or debating it, lets say, in polite fashion (to start with), I would get really worked up earlier and be very vocal and use a lot of words. Well, this happens rarely, these days. I can be occasionally combative and cutting and I sometimes yell incoherently at the monster in anger, but generally, I don't indulge much in this.

At work, after beating my head about it for a bit, I sort of just let it go. I thought one important thing about me is that I am passionate about a lot of things. Now, its more like I am enthusiastic about a lot of things. Not really that passionate, any more.

Of course, of late, many of the fights and arguments I have are fairly innocuous ones. I am not even angry for the most part (which makes a big difference, really). But if I feel upset and I don't understand whats going on in a fight/argument, another thing I find is that my coping mechanism is very weak. I experience a lassitude, a general disinterest in putting foot in front of another, in eating, in reading, in about anything. And even the most ridiculous of them render me quite..I don't know..tired.

I lose my anger fairly easily. My misery? Take some time to process. But I usually get over it. In time, I forget. But the most painful part of it all is a realisation that there are many things that cannot be resolved. Even my little child, she doesn't fully forgive me when I say something I shouldn't have said, to her. Arguments once made, cannot be pulled back. Every time I feel the lassitude creeping upon me, I hope for some crazy out-of-whack situation, that makes us all spontaneously forget the basis of the fight. It doesn't happen, and nothing gets resolved, just that time flows over everything. Me, I am a fool. I wallow, sometimes with reason, most times without, in misery, and blame myself for everything. I understood my passionate, angry, angst-ridden gig better, at least it did not give me head-aches...