Power hungry bitch

Lately I’ve determined that I possess power, ambition and even a competitive streak. To know these things about yourself is certainly good but as they say context is everything…because I didn’t get really clear on this until a few of years ago when I started down the road to 40. Now at the threshold of 46 (which let’s be honest is only a hop, skip and a jump away from the big 50) I’m kind of stuck in a safe but boring job set up which doesn’t reward any one of those newly discovered qualities.

So what happens when a person like me finally discovers or admits that they have the drives easily acknowledged by most males and many females who are younger, more attractive and better educated?

I get angry. I feel annoyed and disgruntled by my voluntary servitude. I act out and do all sorts of things that are counter productive. The depth of my surliness surprises me daily.

In psychoanalytic terms, my id or my more primitive personality actor is now actively refusing to stand still for this situation where I am often the opposite of the person I want to be. Add to that the probability that I’ve clearly started down the cranky, moody, peri-menopause runway and you have a situation where regrets abound. What’s a middle-aged generation-joneser like me to do?

My only hope to remain sane is to start trying to figure out how to manage the unruly child I’m sharing a body with.

1. I have to try to understand her. Nobody likes being shut down forever. It's not surprising that my deepest impulses (personified as 'her') will fight to get out.
2. I must to try to empathize with her. Understanding is one thing. True empathy reaches across canyons of difference to find tributaries of commonality, territories of mutual trust and respect.
3. I have to acknowledge my contribution to the situation. My risk aversion got me here in the first place. It's my job to get me (and her) out again. Basically, I have to stop standing in our (my? her? ack.) way.
   
4. I must get her to understand that there may be more effective ways of blowing off steam or getting the results that she wants. For example...calling in sick alot does nothing for my credibility...nor does getting snippy with clients. If I can get my inner child to throw the same energy she uses to pitch a tantrum into a new career search, half the battle's won.
   
5. I must meet her halfway. That means, I can't settle for the same-old, same-old. I have to nip out of my safe but uncomfortable zone into the alarming but potentially satisfying. My inner self craves independence and a more impactful life. Sure it's hard work to craft anything close to that. But the alternative is a daily conniption fit...