‘I’ve been holding on so tightly to this Bad Mood. It’s exhausting’

Sometimes, you’re just spoiling for a fight.

In the past few weeks, I have found myself in a Bad Mood. I am encased in what would be best described as Gaeilge as a “stodar”. A huff. Say the word out loud and you’ll hear the thud of my petulant foot.

I’m five weeks post-some-virus-or-other that, as the doctor noted, “knocked me for six”. I’m recovering, yes I know, thank you for reminding me, but I’m not recovered and therein lies my frustration. I want to be “better”, as in the superlative, not “better” the comparative.

I could, as they say, scream, but I’m too tired to do so. Instead, I do another wordsearch in my puzzle book and mute the ads on the podcast that has been playing for the past four hours. I have no idea who is speaking or what about, but every so often the gentle background hum is interrupted by an ad for the National Dairy Council.

Mood of nation lifted as pandemic restrictions were eased, CSO data shows

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Psychological services for young people need urgent reform, says Cairns

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‘Organisations that invest in workplace wellbeing enjoy higher staff morale and greater employee engagement’

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‘Like many people living with bipolar ... I know my creativity is linked to the condition’

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The point is, I have become encased in a funk. I am packed with frustration and tingling with fury. My problem, however, is that this is no one’s fault. I’m not annoyed at any particular person or any thing. No one has done me wrong, except perhaps the universe, and that is a difficult entity to retaliate against. I’m not sure how to get back at the world without ultimately hurting myself or some unfortunate soul who doesn’t deserve my frustration at all.

[ ‘I am fortunate my mental health is more robust than my physical health’ ]

Anyway, as we know, anger is best directed at those you love the most. So, in an attempt to relieve myself of some of this feeling, I phone my dad. I huff and puff down the phone, spouting ráiméis. I am hoping to get a rise from him, but he only laughs and tells me it is his pleasure to talk to me, even on a bad day. That’s no good, so I hang up and walk into the coffee shop in front of me.

Not even the dogs on the street will snarl at me. All I get are these pathetic dopey smiles wishing for a tickle on their gorgeous little tums

It’s 11.45am and the waitress tells me the lunch menu isn’t ready yet. I’m not hungry, but I lunge at the opportunity for some disagreement – but before I open my mouth the chef pipes up to tell me that if I am hungry, they can start the lunch menu early.

That’s not fair, is it?

So, after I eat what to my annoyance turns out to be a tasty lunch, I make my way back home. It is, of course, sunny today. Not even Mother Nature will conspire with me in some pathetic fallacy for my darkened mood.

I stay alert for an opportunity for confrontation. I stare down the men leaning out of windows of their vans, and a group of youths clutching bottles of Prime, but no one will rise to it. Not even the dogs on the street will snarl at me. All I get are these pathetic dopey smiles wishing for a tickle on their gorgeous little tums. Even the seagulls seem to be nonchalantly minding their own business today, occupied by a bag of chips strewn on the ground a few metres away.

The anger, as I had intended, didn’t erupt in one big belch, but melted with a gradual rising of warmth

Finally, the last straw comes when a butterfly lands near me, fluttering her innocent pink wings in euphoric delight. It’s at this point that I veritably give up.

Today is not my day. Beidh lá eile ag an bpaorach.

I feel a tightness inside of me melt and if there is a tear trickling down my cheek, it is only in relief. I succumb to the gentle embrace of kindness laid out before me today. I soften, and as the anger unspools itself in my chest, I find I am left with a feeling of exhaustion.

I had been holding so tightly to this Bad Mood.

The anger, as I had intended, didn’t erupt in one big belch, but melted with a gradual rising of warmth. I was left with no option but to let the corners of my lips rise into the faintest hint of a smile.

Mother Nature, you glorious irreverent sow.