Gratitude: Or 9 lies and a truth

Her fingers rattled against the desk, tap, tap, tapping, along with her frustration. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the assignment. Or even the purpose of acknowledging the things that you were grateful for. 

It made sense. 

Especially in the context of an anger management group.

But her place in the group wasn’t exactly the right fit. She didn’t have anger issues. So sitting in a room with a bunch of mouthbreathers who busted up their partners because they didn’t have dinner on the table at the right time. That wasn’t exactly something that she was grateful for. 

1-Not having to serve jail time for lighting that car on fire.

The gratitude list would probably actually help those neanderthals. She thought with a savage swipe of the pen, sinking too deep into the paper. Did she have to turn this in to the group leader? Or worse, was this one of their ‘opportunities’ to share with the group. 

2- Being able to keep my thoughts/feelings to myself.

It was a little too vicious. Too on the nose, as her mother might say. She should be more subtle in her distaste for having to share their feelings. But her feelings were her own. The few that she actually had, that is. It felt cheap having to disclose them to a roomful of men that didn’t understand her. 

3- That I am in control of my choices. 

And wasn’t that the crux of the issue. She wasn’t like them. She didn’t burn red hot, with her anger bubbling over faster than a pot on the stove. She didn’t lose control and do things she regretted. No, she consciously made her choices. It was like the world slowed down, cool and still. Like watching the mercury shrink down in a thermometer. She didn’t regret the choices that she made, each were carefully thought through, with a logical path from A to B. With A usually being some minor act of effrontery. And B usually being at least blood spilled; if not fire trucks en route. She did have an image to maintain after all. 

4- Lenient judges.

An image that her public defender had managed to subvert, which had been frankly embarrassing. Making her hang her head like a delinquent child, who had taken the game too far. Even the way that woman had made her style her hair felt childish. But in the end, it had resulted in her being let off with probation, community service, and the requisite of completing an anger management course. 

So that left her here. Having to write out some cheap little laundry list of the things in her life that she was grateful for. And if this really was something that she had to share with the others, it meant that she would probably get told that her list was too shallow. That she had written down the wrong sorts of things. 

She scratched the pen through the paper again, enjoying the sensation of it pressing too far through the ink and wood pulp, to brush against the hard surface of the table beneath. A smirk tilted on her lips, probably not the right thing to add, but it felt close enough. 

5- Good quality pens.

She looked up towards the ceiling, trying to think of something else to add to the list. She couldn’t remember if there had been a minimum requirement for number of items on the list. 10 sounded like a good round number, how could they complain if she had that many written out? She thought over the group again, the drunk who swore he only beat his wife when he’d had too many. Which should have told him that he needed to stop drinking. But alas, he just couldn’t seem to give it up. 

6- That I’m not married.

The brawler, who always came in with bruises and cracks in his knuckles, unable to make it the couple of days between meetings without getting into a fight. Ones that he wasn’t too good at winning, if the rotating blend of blues, greens, and purples that marred different parts of his face each session were proof of anything. 

7- That I can dodge a punch if necessary.

That was likely as not to rile him up, he might even take a swing at her during the meeting if she did have to read this stupid list to the rest of the group. If that was the case, she might get let out of this stupid program, or at least the assignment to share again. There were worse scenarios she could dream up when trying to avoid group.

There was also the quiet man, who seemed too weak and shy to be involved in the group. It had almost surprised her the first time that she had seen him, he had joined on her third, or maybe fourth session. The creepy grin that came across his face when he was forced to share about the ‘incident’ that landed him there. Well, no one should be that happy about putting their girlfriend and kid in the hospital. 

8- That I have healthy family dynamics.

The only other person at the group she attended 3 times a week was the leader. An overly cheery man, barely out of his twenties. He apparently took public health and safety a little too seriously. His enthusiasm made her want to puke. It was bad enough she had to be there, he didn’t need to actually make her talk about what set her off. Trying to get her to connect the unfortunate string of circumstances that always veered away from what people typically deemed acceptable. It was like he was living vicariously through them, you know, not having anything interesting to say of his own or experience. Instead he kept probing them for what they were feeling. 

9- Having a life of my own.

Her hand stilled on the pen, annoyance that this was so hard making her want to just give up and ball the whole stupid thing up. She could just be done with this, right? Her time in the group was at least winding down. She only had two more weeks of her court appointed time. She could grin and bear it. Even if her grin looked a little more like a snarl. And bearing it usually meant she hit someone when her patience ran out. With a sigh, she wrote one true thing on her list.

10- That I’m almost done with the program.