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.

 

 

Published by Dani

I like breakfast, marine mammals, Star Wars, comedy, the song "Dead Man's Party," and Halloween musical revues at theme parks. Let's be friends!

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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