I feel as if a furnace was lit, deep within my soul. A fire that once ignited, it grows and grows until I can no longer contain it. And then I explode. I want to scream as loud as I possibly can and the inanimate objects around me are the focus of my fists. Or my fist, I should say. It’d be weird to use your left hand/jabbing hand in a match against a wall or a door… which both have been my recent ‘opponents’...both shouldn't have been.All of this anger is super embarrassing to me, well...after the fact of course. In the midst of my fits of rage, I only see red (sometimes there is crimson and maybe a little maroon). Regardless of the shade of red, once the color is seen - there is no turning back - just like there is no reasoning with an angry bull.
Unfortunately, this isn't something new. I’ve had a bad temper for as long as I can remember. Actually, that’s not true. It was only after puberty hit that I became the delicate, fuming psychopath that I am today :) Good ‘ole puberty! I wasn’t given acne, I was given anger.I remember one lovely day in high school, I was walking to class and I was pissed off at one stupid thing or another. I had my arms crossed across my chest and this boy that I wasn’t particularly fond of threw a crumpled up, ball of paper at me. Did I act like a normal person would and just ignore him? Nope! Not at all. I grabbed the piece of paper, charged him while screaming at him at the top of my lungs. I don’t recall what exactly I was saying (*ahem* yelling), but it was loud enough that it brought teachers out of their rooms and he was backed up against the locker. I got to class and was completely furious. The main problem wasn't how mad I was; the problem was that I didn’t know why I was mad. I had to think hard about what just happened to cause this kind of emotional reaction. I essentially blacked out from anger. And...that wasn't the last time that would happen. And that’s not cool.
As we all know, anger is one of the five stages of grief. Yay! Let's go ahead and add intensified anger to an already irritable person (and, to top it off, I am close to my period right now = triple whammy! Instant bitch!) My poor husband... Shuggy, I AM so sorry - I'm crazy, kookoo bananas! I love you so much and you've been great through this whole ordeal thus far (and you were stellar through the whole cancer dealio, too). You're a rock star honey cakes, don't you forget it. I love you, Tony :) <3
Here is what I am planning to do to stay out of the red/crimson/maroon :)
- Groups. Today I signed up with a bereavement group for young'ish people that are grieving - most of who lost one (or both) of their parents. They meet once a month and sit around talking...not sure what about, but I can only assume they talk about how they cope with things, which I obviously need some guidance in. I am SO glad I found this group because I really wanted to avoid any groups of anyone/older people talking about how sad it was when they were able to tell their older parent(s) good-bye because of an 'expected' death and they died peacefully in bed.
- Punching/Hitting. I found this 'reflex' punching bag that has a pedestal base and when you hit it, it sways back at you so you have to block yourself. I kind of love it (I had one similar growing up along with a 60lb punching bag. I obviously like hitting shit). This one particular model, a woman reviewer said that she "can use this to rid of negative energy safely". Whoah...I need this thing...like yesterday.
- YOGA. I'd love to learn yoga, I plan on learning it because I know I need to do it. Almost all of my doctors have told me to calm the F down (prior to my padre's passing). Seriously, I've even had an eye doctor tell me that I needed to do yoga because my stress levels were causing my ulcerative colitis to flare, which in turn subsequently caused my eyeballs to swell. Yes, I just wrote that - yes it happened - my colitis caused my fucking eyeballs to swell.
- Writing. I will continue to write because it really does calm me down. Writing gets these random thoughts out of my crazy head so that way I don't explode, implode or there is that little thing called spontaneous human combustion. Maybe that's why I am always so damned hot??
- Laughing. And last but not least, I'd like a sign that typically factories have that say "It's been (however many) days since we've had an accident" - Although, I am going to make my sign and it will say "It's been (however many) days since Amber has punched furniture". I'll post a photo of it when I make it. I'm for reals. I think it will be funny and also keep things in check for my silly ass brain/temper/fists of fury.
***UPDATE - this was NOT my 100th post! Errr! I was looking at my blogger account and it included all of the drafts that I have. That being said, I have 88 posts and 12 drafts of ramblings that I did not see fit to be posted to the world. My brain is mushy and angry, what can I say!