Two nights ago, in the dark and wee hours of sleep, my husband (who gets extremely uncomfortable when I mention him in any way on the internet. Sorry, hon!) rolled onto his side, threw an arm over me, and pulled me close. Trademark move of the big spoon.

In that moment, mostly still asleep, I mostly knew it was my husband. Another part of me bypassed that knowledge and went straight to the panicked, there’s a man grabbing me without my permission!

I went shock-still, wondering what had just happened. Truth: I wasn’t sure if I’d pushed him away, yelling DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME, or only thought it in my head. Easy enough to figure out within seconds. My husband was still in bed, sleeping peacefully.

In school, we learned about the nervous system, and how there are (at least, I guess, I’m not an expert) two different types of relay systems in the brain. Like if the nerves on your fingertips send a PAIN signal, sometimes that signal goes all the way up your arm, to your spine, up your spine, to your brain, and you decide what to do in response.

But sometimes, there are more immediate types of PAIN signals. In those cases, it’s possible for your fingertip nerves to send the message PAIN up your arm, to your spine. And it’s your spine, not your brain, that makes the decision MOVE THE EFF AWAY. It saves valuable microseconds, and the result is that your brain is not involved in the decision. Which is all just to say something can be reflexive, and beyond your conscious control.

I woke up afraid that my anger is reaching reflexive levels, that maybe my brain won’t be consulted before I react. Also, my stress is so high I no longer feel entirely safe asleep in my own bed.

I could go on at length about all the pieces of this Kavanaugh hearing that are enraging me, and scaring me, and breaking my heart. But in the words of my good friend, who kindly interrupted me last night as I was doing exactly that, “I get it! You don’t need to argue me into taking your side because I’m already right there with you.”

Here’s the thing. I don’t want to let go of my anger. I need it to get through this. But I’m afraid of letting my anger get everything.

Probably like a lot of you, the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to ‘check out’ as often as possible. I watched Season 3 of OUTLANDER (Omg, Claire, “I’m a surgeon!” is not an excuse for you to act like a total reckless dipshit, but I gotta love the eye-rolly trouble you get into) the latest Netflix season of THE GREAT BRITISH BAKING SHOW (I didn’t think I could love the new cast, but I do). I’m reading THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE by Shirley Jackson and just finished WE HAVE ALWAYS LIVED IN THE CASTLE. I’m listening to story after story from THE NEW YORKER: fiction podcast (Recent Faves! It’ll be no surprise that I’m only listening to women, these women in particular).

Checking out has been great. Necessary. But it is also like taking drugs: when I come out of it, I still have the same problems I did before. At the same level of HIGH ALERT as when I left them. I know I need to do something pro-active to modify my anger, instead of just taking a break from feeling it.

Way back when I had my second child and subsequently fell apart, my parents moved to live in my town so they could help me get back together again.

For hours at a time and for days and days, my mother and I would walk the neighborhood pushing strollers, and I would tell her how angry I was. Sometimes, she would see me snap at the kids when I was angry with something or someone else. Back then, it was rare for my mom to give directive advice (her mode was to listen to everything and encourage me to make my own decisions), but once, when I was particularly short with my three year old, she did say to me, “Remember to kick the dog that bit you.”

Which meant to make sure I directed my anger at the things and people who deserved it, not at the people who happened to be close by. It made me cry to be scolded, especially because she was right, and I had acted badly. But good too, because my daughter heard. It’s appropriate to be angry, to retaliate. Just make sure your aim is true.

So here’s the other two things I’d like to do to help me remember to stay angry at people/things that deserve it, and to remember to be kind to everyone else.

1) We’re fostering a dog, starting today. She has three legs and a freshly broken/amputated tail, and needs home care while on medical leave. Since this dog allegedly has no political affiliation, I’m hoping I can unabashedly be kind to her without having to worry that her FB feed will later make me regret knowing her. If the shelter says it’s OK, I’ll post you some pics while we have her.

2) I’d like to send some of you hand written, silly cards through the mail. This is purely selfish on my part as it will force me to get off the computer and practice kindness towards other human beings. It will give me something to shop for, and keep my mind occupied, a reason to linger in the funny cards section of Target, snickering. A low key happiness hobby.

If it’s OK to send you something, and you trust me with your contact info, please email me the address where you can receive such a thing (don’t post your info in comments, please). Work address, home, POB, anything is fine by me. I won’t use your address for any other purpose. I’ll delete it off my computer after I send your stuff. I won’t even use google maps to check out your front yard. But I’ll get to think good thoughts for a few minutes, and maybe feel like I am doing something more productive with my life than waiting for the next horrible thing to happen.

Thanks,

A/N

anne@annenahm.com