of anger

CW: Mentions of abuse and trauma. 

I am angry today.

I am angry at everything, I think, but if you’ll allow me to be more specific: I am angry at how cold my hands are, I’m angry at how lame my Spotify Daily Mixes are today, I am angry at you, I’m angry that I ran out of shredded cheese this morning, I’m angry that I decided that I am too chubby and poor to justify going to get a coffee and a pastry from the local shop this morning, I am angry at you, I am angry at the construct of gender, I am angry at the stigmas surrounding mental illness, I am ANGRY AT THE WORLD, I am angry at you, I am angry that I don’t have a car, I am angry at you, and, mostly, I am angry at myself.

(I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything.)

I am angry that I am finally, it seems, STUCK. Writing was giving me something like solace during this awful period of time, and let me be clear: Not that it’s a competition, because it’s not, and everything is terrible for everyone, but I’m feeling like an asshole today, so I need to scream into the void that I WAS NOT OKAY BEFORE ALL THIS WENT DOWN.

And it was making me feel better to sit down with a mug of tea or a glass of wine, and to write my soft, silly nerd stories. To put them out into the ether, and wait for a sweet, sweet reblog or a nice comment, some form of VALIDATION. Because where else am I supposed to get that? From myself?

“Hey, good job today, Dani.”

“Yo, FUCK YOU.”

But I am out of stories right now! And I know that’s okay, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t fucking hate it. I see the gentle memes that encourage me to take this time to rest, to relight the fire, to refuel the tank, and, again, I just want to King Kong style rampage through the fucking streets, because NO. I DON’T WANT TO WAIT. I FEEL BAD, AND I WANT THE VALIDATION NOW.

(WHEN THIS CALMS DOWN, I AM MOVING TO THE MOON.)

I am angry that I used to be in plays, and sometimes I am certain that I will never get to be in a play again. I am angry that I haven’t tried to write a book yet, I am angry that my play still isn’t Done. That it isn’t Perfect. I am angry that the only words I can conjure up today are pitiful howls into nothingness. But I’m so fucking angry today!

I am angry, I think, because I cannot handle being sad any longer.

I am angry at this past year. Of recognizing instances of abuse and trauma, of being forced to re-contextualize events and relationships and everything. I am angry that I cannot go back in a Time Machine, and take the confused, terrified girl-thing that Used To Be Me and whisk her away to somewhere safe, where I can give her a juice box and make sure she knows that these Horrible Things Are Not Her Fault. (Some things will be her fault, sure, just like some things are my fault now, I get that.) But The Horrible Things?

Fuck.

I am nearly 31, and I am ready for the unpacking to be over, and I am angry that I suspect that this is a process that doesn’t really end. I carry these bullshit metaphorical backpacks, and maybe all we get are the opportunities to sit down and take them off for a moment and rest. But today I feel like I am wearing all of them at once, and I am climbing up some impossible hill, and I’m not wearing the right shoes, and, again, I feel like the only thing that can keep me mobile is the ability to scream.

I’M SO ANGRY.

I’M SO ANGRY.

I feel like I want to tear myself out of my own skin and start over.

I can’t get in a Time Machine, and go rescue myself. And this thought will occur to me later when the anger has faded, and I will weep about it. But I can take a deep breath and whisk myself to the coffee shop around the corner. Coffees and pastries don’t solve things, I know that, but they are an active, tangible manifestation to me of gentleness. I can’t speak softly in my own head today, but I can let the Angry Adult Me go on a walk for a snack, and I don’t know, I can pretend it’s for the Scared Teenage Me Crying In Her Bedroom.

I don’t know, Team. Just as I write this, the Anger is already giving way to Sadness. My point, as usual, is this: THERE IS NOTHING INHERENTLY WRONG WITH YOU. THERE IS JUST HOW YOU TREAT OTHER CREATURES, SO JUST DON’T BE A DICK, AND YOU’RE FINE. AND WE’RE GOING THROUGH A THING RIGHT NOW, AND IT’S FINE IF YOU DON’T WRITE ANY FANFICTION TODAY. JUST GET VALIDATION FROM OLD COMMENTS, YOU LOON.

I’M SORRY FOR CALLING YOU A NAME. I LOVE YOU.

Fuck.

Go get a coffee today, Champ. Get whatever you want. Maybe this is The Wrong Way To Do This, but this is how I know to love you. I want you to have everything you want. I want to decorate your heart with iced coffees and books and stuffed animals, and I want to build you the softest fortress that ever there was, You Good Thing.

But that’s because that’s what I want. Tell me what you want. I am so desperate to know.

I don’t know.

I’m angry today.

 

 

One thought on “of anger

  1. “I am angry, I think, because I cannot handle being sad any longer.”

    ::Hugs snarling kitten until it is finally forced to go limp and soft and accept pettings and comfort::

    Shh. It’s okay. I understand. You are not alone in this. The world is infuriating. It’s okay to be mad. And it’s okay to let it go.

    Liked by 1 person

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