Rage
You just made me so upset. No. Not upset, that’s the wrong word. I sit in the pool and introspect, actually what I am feeling? Upset is passive, quiet, small. This doesn’t feel like that at all actually. What does this feel like? How does my body feel? I am shaking. I am energized. This isn’t upset. This is anger. This is rage.
You didn’t make me (passive) upset. You gave me the unwanted gift of this rage. You’ve placed within my hands the radioactive, pulsing heat of rage. You’ve created this anger within me.
I don’t want this. I don’t want this feeling within my body. I hate it, I can feel the heat and anger of it pulsing through my veins. How dare you infect me with this? What right do you have? You claim to love me, yet you give me this??
What do I do with this deadly, unhealthy energy? Well usually I would just swallow it down wouldn’t I?. I don’t know that I didn’t partly deserve this, after all it was me who voiced my concern. If it isn’t spoken, it doesn’t exist. Right? We don’t want to cause a scene, we don’t want to end the weekend this way do we?
But we’re breaking that cycle. We know now that when it’s left to fester, that radioactive lump doesn’t melt away. It doesn’t disappear. It turns cancerous. It begins to grow within me. I don’t want that within me. This knot, this tumor of hate will grow and grow and grow, slowly killing me from the inside out.
So I do something very simple. Very simple, and very hard. I just say it out loud. I just tell you how you’ve made me feel. I tell you how angry I am. It’s like trying to speak a foreign language, or use a limb I’ve never utilized before. This feels so alien, because I’ve never done it before. I wasn’t raised this way, I don’t have these habits. We don’t cause scenes in my family, we don’t cause upset.
And how does it feel? My body, how does it feel? I am trembling. My hands are shaking. I can feel the heat and energy pulsing through me as I pace, I can’t be still. I am fuming. Fuming. It feels so unpleasant, so…uncontrollable. Uncontrolled. I don’t feel in control of my own physical being.
And that feels…actually, it feels powerful. I feel a rush of energy. A massive release of chemical energy, like the opening of a dam or waters gushing over a fall. The heat, the shit, the pulsing rage I can feel it emanating, from within me, through my body, out through my skin, and into the world.
And I feel, empowered. I did a powerful thing. I got that unwanted lump, that disgusting gift, I got it out of me. Before it had the chance for it to take root and grow.
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