To Hell With Positive Thinking

You know, the thing about positive thinking is, in order for it to be effective you kind of need a sign every once in while that it's actually working. I mean, I'm not a scholar or whiz kid, but I'm pretty sure in order for us to stay on the 'you need rain to make a rainbow' train, you actually need to see a rainbow. Right? Like a little break would be nice. A small one. A teeny tiny sign that good things are on route. 

The truth is, it's exhausting trying to look on the sunny side of things. Keeping your chin up is hard work when a metric ton of stress is bearing down on you. It's virtually impossible to have a stiff upper lip all the time. Sometimes you don't want to keep swimming. Sometimes you want to shuck off your water wings and give in to the riptide of negativity. Allow the sea of annoyance and grumpiness to wash over you. Submerge in anger. Wallow in melancholy. Drown in pessimism. 

Instead of smiling and saying things like, "It can only get better", which is an outright lie because it actually can get worse, you want to snarl, snap and shout a big eff you to the big blue sky, maybe even throw a middle finger up, just in case someone is watching. 

Of course, there are hiccups for all of us on this road to life, for sure. Troubles are not unique to me, nor are they to you. Yes, it is always optimal to maintain your hopefulness and to remain cheerful in the face of strife, but sometimes that's just not feasible. Sometimes smiling and saying 'everything happens for a reason' is downright impossible. Once in awhile, it's okay to get mad. To be agitated and enraged. You don't always have to be pleasant. Sometimes you have to let the world know you aren't happy with the way things are working out. In fact, you're utterly unimpressed with how the situation is unfolding and would like your time and money back, if possible. 

Sure, it's important to remain upbeat and carry on, to struggle through the rough times and remind yourself 'this too shall pass'. That doesn't mean it isn't equally important to slam the door to your bedroom and hide under your covers for a couple days. To eat a pint of ice cream. Dodge your mother's phone call. Or write a snarky post about giving up on positive thinking and embracing the negativity you've been beating away with a stick.

It's warm and familiar in this cocoon of discontentment.

As the elevens grow deeper on my forehead and my face slips easily into a mask of dissatisfaction, I relax into my 'this sucks' attitude. For tonight, I stew, immersing myself in irritation and pulling up the 'leave me alone' blanket. I will turn inwards and question why I even bother, feel foolish for caring, and mock all the eager, go-getter thoughts I've had through this worrisome week. The loveliness will be put on the back burner, the hold button pushed, and I will be a ball of irate wretchedness. 

Tomorrow I will wake up and return to the positive, but tonight to hell with it.