How do you tame your frustration monster?
Every amputee has thrown a prosthetic leg, a shoe, or some sort of assistive device across a room in frustration. If they haven't, it's only because it was too heavy to throw or too expensive to risk breaking. And if you were aware enough to consider that last factor, you are smarter than I am. Frustration is a natural feeling and releasing it can be healing. But the situations that evoke it come often and aggressively for amputees, so finding a way to keep it from turning you into a fire-breathing monster that no one wants to spend time with is essential.
I like to first ask myself, what am I actually mad about? Is it that my phantom pain is an eight out of ten? Or is it that I won't make it to girls' night? Then I remind myself this is no one's fault. I can't be mad at myself, my friends, my husband, or anyone else. I won't lie; I have let my own frustrations cloud the way I treated the people I loved before. I have been outwardly irritable around people who were not at fault. But I do try to remember that they are so much of what is good in my life and deserve to be treated as such. Overall, I live an incredibly fulfilled life, and the occasional painful day or prosthesis complication will not bring me down. I will continue to work on taking things in stride and laughing when I can. There aren't enough moments in life that go perfectly, but there are plenty that will test our ability to stay calm and collected.
For all the blisters, rashes, and electric limb zaps, there are amputee friends, leg jokes, and residual limb nicknames. Even on the worst of days, there is always something or someone that can lift you out of your frustration fog, if you allow it. I still get angry, and I'm willing to bet most people living with limb loss still feel anger and frustration even decades after parting with an arm or leg. Working through those feelings in a safe and healthy way is one of the biggest challenges I've faced. But when I'm able to do so, the sense of freedom I feel is unmatched. It's kind of like finally being old enough to get on the big kid swing and going high enough to feel the stomach flips. Knowing you earned this fun next step with time and patience. You weren't ready until you were.
