Rage. in Phoenix

  • June 12, 2019, 9:39 a.m.
  • |
  • Public

It’s what’s for dinner.

I’ve had a few random bursts of almost uncontrollable rage today. That hasn’t happened in a very long time, many months. Maybe even years. It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced flashes of rage so intense that are seemingly meaningless. I say seemingly because anger has a root, and its root is fear. So, there’s something I fear that is triggering me into flashes of rage. Not meaningless. I just have to trace the rage back to the fear to understand it.

And this is where I generally run into a brick wall. There’s a reason that fear manifests in anger. Facing fears is hard and expressing it is even harder.

I have a lot of fears right now, which is pretty weird, maybe. I mean, I also have tremendous hopes right now and so maybe the hope is actually triggering the fears. Every time I’ve ever dared to hope for something, I’ve fallen flat on my face. And, of course, the higher I’ve allowed my hopes to go, the harder the fall. So maybe the fear isn’t all that weird after all.

Like hope is a hard thing for me to have, so is giving trust. Because every time I’ve trusted, I’ve been let down. And the more trust I gave, the worse I felt when it was broken. I may be exaggerating a bit, but it feels like 98% of the people I’ve trusted in my life didn’t deserve my trust, from my parents and family, to friends, to nearly every romantic partner. Some how, some way, I always end up disappointed, my trust broken.

Okay. There it is. Found the root.

I can’t trust myself enough to trust someone else. Except I do feel trust for people. I think maybe I don’t trust the trust I feel.

Oh, this is so convoluted.

And yes, I’m dancing around it, both in mind and in type.

It’s not rage I feel, it’s fear. Fear that this thing that’s happening isn’t real. Not really real, I mean. Not serious real. Fear that this is just… a passing phase or…

Fear that, no matter what, I’ll end up alone in the end. Because these things always have an end, one way or another, right? Yeah, I know, that’s negative thinking, but… well, it’s not my fault that sometimes rational thinking is pretty negative, is it? But really. I have this overwhelming fear lately that I’ll be on my death bed some day and I’ll be alone. Or something. Now I feel kinda bad for wishing there was someone to sit at my death-bed-side… Like, how sad for them.

There’s this tiny part of me that fears that this is all just fun and games. But it’s not, right? It can’t be, it’s so much more than that, it’s… everything. But there’s also this sense that it’s just too perfect, too right, no way, nothing this amazing can be sustained, can it? This is like fairy tale shit.

I fear that I don’t have what it takes to sustain myself in this. I have only just discovered the… suffering involved in this. Only 3 days ago, I found this part of myself, this tiny little spot, that just hurt. And the thoughts that started to come into my head at the same time that tiny spot of suffering started… Well, all of these thoughts here, and many others. Almost none of them positive thoughts, really. Just scared thoughts. So many scared thoughts.

I’ve never known anything like this before. I’ve never been loved like this before. I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt. No one has ever looked at me like this. No one. Ever. No one has ever said the things or done the things like this. Nothing like any of this has ever happened to me. Every minute of it is completely foreign territory, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been in shock for almost 2 solid months now.

It’s terrifying because whenever I’ve thought something was good in my life, it turned out pretty fucking awful. My goodness, how awful would it be for something this good to end? I mean… I’m a pretty tough bitch and I’ve been through some astoundingly terrible things. I’m way more mentally and emotionally strong than I used to be and I seem to just keep getting tougher and tougher. But my god, just the thought of this ending is nearly enough to drive me to cry in my pillow. Just the thought. I haven’t really been a cry-in-my-pillow girl for a lot of years.

Yes, I deserve the good things. I deserve to be loved and happy. But didn’t I always? We don’t always get what we deserve, eh?

I don’t know how to do any of this and I’m trying but it goes against everything I’ve ever thought I knew and believed about how these things are supposed to go. But this isn’t really “these things,” either, is it? This is a totally different thing from anything else, ever. I have never been in this particular position before. I don’t know how to process it because I have no frame of reference.


I fear.


Also, I fear… being alone. Never having someone to come home to. And that’s just weird because I actually like coming home to no one (I mean, my kids are here, so not “no one” but you know what I mean) most of the time. But I think that’s mostly because the last person I came home to was never happy to see me. When I think about what it would be like to come home to you, well. I hope you can understand why I would have that thought and how it makes me feel. Because, when we say “all the things,” I really mean all the things.

I feel so much shame right now for writing this and I don’t know if it’s valid or not. I mean, aren’t all of my emotions valid? Or am I supposed to cherry-pick them? I don’t know how to process this.

Last updated June 12, 2019

You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.