Lately, I’ve been dealing with a lot of latent anger.
Swear words course (I could say “curse,” ha!) through my head; I engage in a lot of silent yelling tantrums; and frankly, people are just irritating the heck out of me.
My cousin Beth remarked recently on her blog that she’d like to make a list of everything that is wrong with the world. Well, Beth, I’d easily share that task with you.
I think part of it is the anger, frustration, and disappointment I bottled up during the past few months while Brett and I went through our troubles. Now that things are looking up and seem to be on the way to getting resolved, I find myself seeking a release for those aggravated feelings.
I know that anger (when not righteous or in zealousness for God) is a sin, and I’ve asked God to relieve me of the burden or at least help me deal with it. But I feel so powerless against the huge tidal wave that seems to sweep me from the sandy shore and pin me to the bottom of the ocean.
I want to scream and yell and rally my first against the sky. I want to let loose with all the feelings I suppressed. I want to tell my husband what he put me through emotionally and mentally in these past few months. I want to shriek at him until he actually changes. I want him to know, to take basic responsibility, and not toss all that HE did wrong back in my face as my fault.
I can’t believe I didn’t realize it. But how could I not question WHY my blood pressure was 163/100? Why did I never wonder WHY my blood sugar jumped all over the map and my migraines increased to being unbearable? Because there was NO why – there was only WHO!
I’ve never been this angry before. And I’m afraid that what this does to my blood pressure could kill me.
My moods fluctuate, of course. And sometimes, I can try to forget and let things be good. Renewed joy, like I wrote about in a recent post. But all it takes is one slip back into that old behavior, and it all comes bubbling back to the surface.
I’m in a heart exploding fury. The world is only red before me, and all I can think is how I just can’t live and do everything all on my own. It defies explanation. I was never angry, not like this, ever before.
It makes me want to do things I never contemplated before. I want to move far away and never see anybody I know ever again (except, of course, I would take Mom with me!). I want to disappear into thin air and not have to think, obsess, and be enraged all the time.
I’m tired of being nice. I’m tired of being accommodating. I’m tired of being the one who always gives in. I’m especially tired of always carrying the full load and being the only one who takes any kind of responsibility. I’m only one person, you know.
I’m tired of always worrying about other people and their feelings and saying the right thing not to ever hurt anyone’s feelings. I want to be honest again.
I want to freedom to be Ann-Marie again. The me I lost so long ago. I’d like to be her again, and not the person who lives this pathetic and sorry life.
I know how depressing this all sounds and I wish I could offer some sort of “I’ll be okay” mentality to soften the blow, but the truth is that I don’t know anymore. I just don’t.
I’m all alone. The wave is pinning me down, and all I want is a breath of air. But each time I try to take it, water fills my lungs.
Maybe it’s just better that way. Easier to just give in.