I’ve gotten pretty good at handling the sudden washes of sadness that overcome me like a sneaker wave on the beach. Â 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. Â Holding them back hurts and they don’t go away, not really, they just wait until another day.
But ANGER? Â What do I do with this anger? Â The sudden flaming surge that coats my throat with bile and makes my eyes water with injustice? Â It’s not fair! Â My inner voice shouts. Â It’s not fair, dammit!
No, it’s not. Â It will never be ‘fair’, not in any meaning of the word. Â So how do I vent this, without setting flame to everyone and everything I care about? Â When I’m sad, I can cry in my truck, in relative privacy, and not disturb anyone. Â 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. Â It scares me, it makes me feel … vengeful. Â Makes me feel wrong. Â What do I have to be angry about? Â 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. Â I feel drained, colorless, brittle. Â 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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