Anger

I’ve gotten pretty good at handling the sudden washes of sadness that overcome me like a sneaker wave on the beach.  I swallow the tears until I can go somewhere to let them flow. I know that it’s best to cry them out, rather than hold them back.  Holding them back hurts and they don’t go away, not really, they just wait until another day.

But ANGER?  What do I do with this anger?  The sudden flaming surge that coats my throat with bile and makes my eyes water with injustice?  It’s not fair!  My inner voice shouts.  It’s not fair, dammit!

No, it’s not.  It will never be ‘fair’, not in any meaning of the word.  So how do I vent this, without setting flame to everyone and everything I care about?  When I’m sad, I can cry in my truck, in relative privacy, and not disturb anyone.   What am I supposed to do with this need to strike out, to pound, to break and burn?

I’ve been here before, face to face with this emotion I don’t feel much control over, an emotion that fills me with shame.  It scares me, it makes me feel … vengeful.  Makes me feel wrong.  What do I have to be angry about?  The voices have plenty to say about on both sides of that question.

Today, I didn’t vent it, I held it down, it’s sitting in the pit of my stomach now.  I feel drained, colorless, brittle.  I don’t think swallowing it down, holding it like poison in my belly, is the right thing to do, so what am I supposed to do with it?

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