St. Anger

Last night I re-watched the Metallica documentary, Some Kind of Monster. No, it’s not good, I’m fully aware of this, but I was eating dinner and wanted something to watch while I was stuffing my face with food. I wasn’t in the mood to go through the carousel of films on all the streaming platforms I’m currently subscribed to, so I just selected the first film that seemed entertaining enough to keep my attention span but one I didn’t have to devote much brain power to, and Some Kind of Monster seemed to fill both bills.

I’m still a little amazed Metallica signed off on releasing this since no one really comes out looking good, except Kirk Hammett, who just seemed to want to get along to get along. He reminded me a little bit of Ringo Starr in the documentary, Get Back. I don’t think Kirk was strung out of his mind to the point he was just happy to be there, but more along the lines where he seemed to have the smallest ego out of the rest of the members who were constantly whipping out their dicks for a contest no one was even holding. He even admitted it in the documentary that he has made a concerted effort to quiet his ego, which is a feat for one of the greatest guitarists of all time to do in one of the biggest bands on Earth. Too bad the other two guys never got the message.

The documentary really is just a battle of egos, with the therapist playing intermediary and cashing $40k/month to make some sort of effort to keep one of the most influential metal acts in tact long enough to find a replacement bassist and churn out an album for the record label—gotta love it when Capitalism gets its sticky little paws into artistic endeavors! The main point of contention is between Lars Ullrich and James Hetfield—Lars, the controlling, childish drummer who flips out the minute he is told he cannot do something vs. James, the pained lead singer who is accustomed to the world revolving around him that he can’t seem to comprehend that what may be convenient for him may be inconvenient for others. James comes off more sympathetic due to the fact he checks into rehab and tries to get his life back on track again so he can lead a healthier life, something Lars cannot fathom.

This all takes place while the band is recording their 2003 album, St. Anger, which was from what I recall, not very well received, but considering the hell the band went through to get something recorded, this record is actually an accomplishment. But I didn’t really want to blather on about Metallica’s inner turmoil from twenty years ago when they were on the verge of breaking up. Rather, I was struck by something James mentioned in the doc that went over my head the first time I saw it, but has resonated with me during this viewing.

When the band films their music video for the title track, “St. Anger”, which takes place in San Quentin with real inmates, James gives a little heartfelt speech to the inmates about how his anger has been something he has been able to build a career off of, but could have also put him in jail, or worse, killed him., had he taken a different path,

This year for me has felt like a huge revelation for me—discovering the anger inside me has caused me so much turmoil. It felt like the first time I could really pinpoint a source for the depression I have had off and on for the past twenty somewhat odd years. I wasn’t sad, I was filled with red hot anger that had nowhere to go so it just festered inside my soul. This year felt like the first time I was able to address when I was angry and redirect it to being constructive and just expressing it. This anger could be used for good, it didn’t need to stay buried in a box. It could actually flourish if I gave it the proper attention it deserved, which was merely acknowledging its existence.

I have felt so ashamed of my anger because the roots of it came from a shameful place. Addressing it would mean addressing the shame, and for a long time I wasn’t ready to do that. If I’m being honest, I still don’t feel comfortable doing it, but looking back on this year, I have relinquished a lot of my anger. More than I thought I ever could. Has it been a perfect journey? Not by a long shot, but it’s been one of the first major steps I’ve taken on improving my mental health, and I think it has definitely shown over the last six months.

I will say leaving my last job and taking this recent job has helped tremendously. Having an awful job that makes you miserable every single day will definitely take a toll on how you view the world, and turn you into a bitter asshole. If I stayed there any longer, I’m not sure where my mental health would have landed. I think about the people who still work there, how miserable they were there, and wonder if they ever made their way out to find some sort of happiness. It was a workplace that I knew crushed so many souls, and could turn the nicest person into the meanest dick. No one deserves to work in a place like that. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Capitalism instills in you that you have no other choice, and quitting a job that makes you unhappy is unhinged, idiotic, selfish, and shows a lack of strength and character. A lie I’ve been spoon fed is bullshit, and I have only come to this conclusion within the last five years. You don’t need to be miserable, and you should never be treated as if you’re less than in any capacity in life, but especially in a work setting. Your labor has value, and work doesn’t define you. Anyone who lets a job define them inherently becomes shackled to the idea there value lies in a series of tasks you’re required to do to make a living, rather than the values you live by on a day to day basis

As we head into the next year, I want to really go into addressing the root of the anger, the Thing I’ve avoided talking about/thinking about/acknowledging. I guess the fear that comes with that is quite possibly not being ready to go through this journey, and finding myself in a deep, dark hole I’m unable to get out of, but the alternative isn’t any better, is it?