No, this isn’t my promised post on yoga, though it too does definitely produce the sound I have tried to imitate here in the title. That slow building internal frustration which finds it’s voice as a guttural groan seems to be the only noise I have made in the last twenty four hours and on the second day that my boyfriend resides in India.
I challenge you to name something more irritating than knowing what someone in trouble needs but being unable to convince them to do what is required to solve, or drastically improve at least, their issues.
Actually I have just challenged myself to see if it was possible and I have come up with an equally exasperating situation: when someone says they will do something and then reneges on it.
If I wasn’t in such a foul mood I might laugh at the irony of the fact that yesterday I posted about today being the start of a new month and what better way to challenge myself to improve than to begin now . As it is I do find it slightly amusing that today has been one on which the only way I’ve to cope is by eating an entire bag of fun size Maltesers and then finding myself unable to violate the commitment I made yesterday to vegan chocolate.
From the moment I woke up this morning I had a headache. The past twenty-four hours have been a consistent stream of being asked for and giving advice only to have it ignored. Chief among these is the fact that my father refuses to take his blood pressure problems seriously. He has been told that he is walking right into a heart attack and yet I find him needlessly stressing out by his computer or sneaking unhealthy snacks from the fridge.
This frustration is nothing new. Probably it is my own fault for always taking on the problems of others – especially my family – and for thinking that I have both the correct advice to give and that it is worth following.
Is it any wonder that the career I went into is teaching? A career where I am listened to and where I know what is needed to help the students get the results they want. In the most basic sense I give to my career what I cannot seem to give to the people I have closest.
In the classroom I had a voice. In real life there is nothing that marks me out as being worth being listened to. Even if I can help there is little I can do to compete with selfishness, fear or denial.
A friend is arriving in a couple of minutes. A friend who doesn’t say left and go right and who, ostensibly at least, has nothing to ask my advice on.