Tag Archives: anger

I’ve got anger and I’m not afraid to use it

I’m finally going there. I’m finally letting myself be pissed off. Because there is oh so much to be pissed off about. Up until now I’ve felt sad and torn and guilty. No more sad, torn, or guilty. At least not today. Right now I’m just letting the anger come up and allowing myself to feel it.

I didn’t realize how much anger I was holding onto until I let it come up. And now that I’m letting it come up, boy is it coming up. I’ve decided just to let it come without trying to stop it or judge it.

Wanna hear why I’m angry? Well if you don’t you may not want to read on lol.

God I’m angry about so many things. So, so many things. Where do I even start?

Okay let’s start on the whole marriage thing. A while back – I can’t say exactly when because I’m horrible with timelines – but let’s just say whenever marriage for same-sex partners became legal in my state, my partner half-heartedly asked me if I wanted to get married. We were all ready for bed. In our pjs, about to turn the lights out… And she said something to the effect of “so now that marriage is legal, I don’t know, would you wanna do it?” Perhaps not those precise words, but you get the drift. This was perhaps a year ago? I never said yes. And here’s why.

I don’t feel married. I told her that. I told her, how can I get married when I don’t even feel married. Because I don’t. We’ve been together for seven years, living together for four. And yet somehow I ended up in a relationship that feels more like roommates with benefits than a true partnership/marriage should. We don’t do things together. What I mean by that is, we don’t do things that couples do together. We don’t go grocery shopping together. We don’t go clothes shopping together. We don’t buy stuff for our apartment together. We don’t walk our dogs together. Hell, we don’t even do our laundry together. (You don’t have to tell me how odd this is, I already know.) This isn’t from a lack of me wanting, or trying. It’s my partner who prefers this way of living. But it’s just not for me. We pay all our bills separately. We write two separate rent checks. I have my money and she has her money. There is no joint checking account.

It’s a very lonely existence. And you might say, well you don’t do those mundane things together, but I’m sure you do lots of other, fun, “couply” stuff together, right? Sure, we attend our friends birthday parties. We go on the occasional hike with the dogs together. Sometimes we go see a movie in the theaters. We go out to eat in restaurants on occasion. And to a concert every now and then. Wanna hear what I’d like to be doing together?

I’d like to go to museums together. It’s been years since we’ve been to a museum of any kind. And I love museums. I’d like to go take picnics in the park with our dogs. Having a picnic is one of my favorite things in the world. How many times have we done it? Once. In maybe our first year together I baked her a boysenberry pie (yes I used to bake for her), blindfolded her, and took her to her favorite park to have a picnic. Rather than having a lovely, loving time together, I remember her acted distracted and aloof. That’s the last time we’ve had a picnic together, just the two of us. I’d like to take drives up the coast together to watch the sunset. I don’t think we’ve ever done that. Okay, maybe once. A long time ago. But I can’t even remember. I’d like to plan meals together and cook together. We’ve never done that. It’s either her cooking or myself. I’d like to work on projects around our apartment together. We’ve never done that. Once when I was out of town for work, she told me that she had spent the day polishing the wood floors in our apartment. That’s something I would’ve loved to have done together. I would like to drive over to see my family, either my parents or my brother and his kids, regularly. We never do that. The only time we see my family together is on holidays and for someone’s birthday. I’d like to be an active participant in my niece and nephews lives: attending their piano recitals, going to watch their soccer games, etc. We’ve never done that. I feel like a crappy aunt. I’d love to drive up to the mountains for a day. Or out to the beach. We don’t do that either. One of my favorite things in the world is camping. We’ve been camping twice together in the last seven years, and both those times were during the first year of our relationship. I’d love to babysit Little Guy together. I dragged her along with me to do that a few months ago. She drove separately and only stayed for a couple hours. She left before the best part: snuggling up to watch a movie together after the kid goes to sleep.

You are probably wondering what we do do together. Well, we eat together. And we watch lots and lots of tv together. Romantic, isn’t it?

Wanna know something else I’m pissed about? There is no “our stuff.” It’s either my stuff, or her stuff. Recently, I mentioned to a friend of mine that my partner has two tents. I know it seems random, but it would make sense if you saw the bigger conversation. But that’s not the point. The point is, I was telling her that my partner has two tents. And my friend was like, “you mean, you have two tents. The two of you.” And I was like, “no… My partner has two tents.” And that’s how it is. None of the stuff that either of us own is seen as common property. It’s either mine or hers. Not ours. There is no “ours.” Well, except for our animals. Thankfully.

You know what else I would like? To plan a trip to go somewhere that I want to go. We’ve been fortunate enough to have been able to travel out of the country three times together. All three times we went places that she wanted to go. Granted, I’m up for traveling almost anywhere. But it’s never been about me. And that’s the problem. Our relationship has never been about me, or what I wanted, or what kind of sofa I preferred, or where I wanted to go, or who I wanted to see. It’s been consistently about her and what she wants. And she won’t do much unless she really wants to. And that includes simple things like going to see my parents, or going to visit friends. Or taking me to a show that I liked.

Many months back, she asked me if I would be interested in seeing The Book Of Mormon, the musical. I love a good musical. (Are you surprised when I tell you we’ve never been to one together?) It’s playing in the city I live. I was shocked. I kept asking her, “you’d really take me to see that?!” I told her that I’d absolutely LOVE to go do that. The reason that I haven’t splurge to take us together is, well one she isn’t much for musicals. And two, it’s crazy expensive. So if I’m gonna spend my hard earned money on something for the two of us, I’m gonna make sure it’s something she is excited about as well. Well, I know you will all be shocked when I tell you this but… She never took me to see The Book Of Mormon. But I’m kinda over being disappointed about things pertaining to our relationship. I kind of expect it at this point. I’ve also been telling her for years how much I want to go camping together, how much I love camping, and how I’d love it if she planned a camping trip for us. Never happened. Surprised?

I understand that people get busy in their lives. They get distracted and caught up with other things. She changed jobs last year and had to take a pay-cut. Her mom was diagnosed with cancer this year (which seems to be gone now thanks to the cancer treatments she’s undergone). I get it, people get caught up in their own lives and forgot about planning fun stuff. But when it’s never really happened, when I really have nothing to look forward to in our relationship, it gets tiresome.

Okay now I’m just getting tired of listening to myself talk about this. I need to go think about other things because I’m getting too depressed. But there you have it. Some (and trust me, not all) of the reasons I’m angry. I’m not holding out any hope that things will change, because after seven years, how much can another person really change?


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A fall-apart night

Yesterday was, what should I say… intense? I was tired, I was moody, the heat wasn’t helping. Also what didn’t help was going clothes shopping. Some people might enjoy clothes shopping. I enjoy the end result, but the whole process to me is just awful. Having to browse through the racks, all the people also browsing through the racks, trying to avoid eye contact, waiting for the dressing room, the dressing room itself, having to assess whether an item of clothing looks good on oneself… I was already in a triggered state when we left to go shopping, and the shopping only made it worse. By the time I got home, I was tired and hot and extremely moody.

The party was fine, although when we left I could tell something was wrong with myself/inner world, I just couldn’t figure out what. Anger was pushing up from inside but I couldn’t tell what was prompting it or where it was coming from. Screaming voices inside… Once home, I then got triggered when my partner turned off the fan and I asked her to please turn it back on. She said, “well, why don’t you take your long-sleeve shirt off first. Maybe you wouldn’t feel so warm then.” This triggered off inside the equivalent to world war III. Intense switching, then everything being stuck inside and body is paralyzed, then fuming anger, and then finally falling asleep in the living room on the couch. My parter came out and woke me up, at which point (and this is where things feel foggy and uncertain), I cried and sobbed for what felt like a long time. It was a bizarre experience though, because “I” didn’t feel sad, yet I was watching myself crying and sobbing. I also heard myself say, “My body was never mine,” and “I don’t even know what it’s like to have my own body.” Quite honestly, I’m not exactly sure why I was saying that or what I was referring to, although I imagine something related to the abuse. I know that I was in an extremely dissociated state. Not really sure if it was “me” talking or another part of me.

And then quite suddenly, almost like a genie being sucked back into a bottle, all the sadness and grief (?) got sucked back inside my body, I felt like I was back to myself (rather than watching myself), and I could quite literally feel the physical weight and pressure of the sadness and grief pushing up inside my body. I no longer felt the sadness as sadness (even though I’m inclined to say I never “felt” the sadness at all), I felt it only as an intense anxiety. The sadness and grief that had been pouring out of me with tears and sobs virtually disappeared in the matter of a few seconds, and I was back to being my typical numb and shut down self.

By this time, it must have been well past 2am, although I don’t remember looking at a clock through any of this, and finally we came back to bed and I fell asleep in my partners arms. Upon waking this morning, screaming, angry voices in my head. A typical start to a typical day I suppose.

I just wonder, if I could feel all those feelings of grief and sadness, without feeling the need to shove it all back inside like what happened last night (even though it felt like an unconscious process much more than a conscious process), I’m wondering if I would then heal? That the key to my healing is feeling the pain and sadness and grief from the betrayals of my childhood, both physical and emotional? Do I actually have to “remember the trauma” in order to heal? Or perhaps simply feeling the feelings and releasing them will release their hold on me? I really don’t know. What I do know is that I feel no better as a result of my hours of crying last night. In fact, it didn’t even feel like “me” who was crying, and perhaps it wasn’t. Where does that leave me then…?

I guess I am left with myself. The numb, emotionally shut down self. The functional yet dead-inside self. The fake, the phony, the fraud, the lie. The mask, the pacifier, the pleaser, the chameleon. The empty, hollow shell with nothing inside. That is me. Whoopee.

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Sunday rant

Excuse me, everyone, for the following rant. It just had to happen.

I’m feeling trapped. Trapped in my apartment, trapped in my body, trapped in my relationship, trapped in this city, trapped by this heat, trapped in this life. I need an escape. But what?

Perhaps I need to drive. Just drive. But I hate the thought of driving right now. And the inevitable weekend traffic on the highways. There is no escaping this.

I told my partner that I wished I could have the apartment all to myself right now. That I need space. That having someone around right now is causing me to get into a panic mode. She offered to go into her room/office. Great, thanks. That’ll solve it. I shouldn’t blame her for not wanting to leave the apartment though. It’s a gazillion degrees outside. So… I’m trapped.

We are supposed to go visit our friends’ new baby in an hour. I want to stay home. But I also want to meet the baby. One week old. What do I do?

I don’t want to be around anyone right now. Everyone please just leave me alone. (Not all of you of course. I’m referring to offline people.) I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just want to be left alone.

Can you tell I’m in a foul mood?

Perhaps I should try taking a cold shower. My therapist recommends this for times when I’m really anxious. Okay, after my cigarette. Ugh.

Tomorrow is my birthday. Woop de fucking doo. I celebrated with my family last night. Triggered me big time. Again, trapped. Trapped in a family that drives me up the wall with no escape.

Does anyone wish there were an easy way out? An easy fix to make all the big hard heavy stuff just go away? An off button to the chaos? I do. Yes, I really am complaining aren’t I.


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Back to my life. No thanks.

Home. Feeling blah. Anger pushing up. Ggg. Why must I return to my life. I don’t want my life. I don’t want to be me. I want to be on permanent vacation. A forever escape. Why did I have to come home. I should be happy I’m home. Right? Back with my cats? Back with my partner? Why am I not happy? And where did my peace go? Sorry I must sound like a child complaining. Sometimes I just wish I could press a button and make everything feel easier.


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Riding the waves of my emotions

Over the course of the last few days, while I’ve been on vacation, my mind has traversed a variety of emotions that have seemed to come out of nowhere. This is nothing new; unexpected feelings often assail me. And the fact that I’m on vacation does not follow that I’m on vacation from my internal world.

The one that has come up most strongly, albeit fairly infrequently, has been anger and rage. Especially, I’ve noticed, when I’m drinking wine. This also isn’t uncommon. Often dissociated feelings come up when I let me guard down – ie drink. I don’t like being drunk. When I have wine, I usually only have one or two glasses. I don’t like the feeling of being out of control that comes with being drunk. There are a few exceptions: when I go out with my friends for a fun time, for instance. That is few and far between though. For the most part, me + drunk = bad combo. So I don’t do it.

But even with only a drink or two in me, feelings that are often repressed or outside my conscious awareness tend to come up. The most common, it seems, is rage.

When these feelings have come up over the last several days, I’ve tried my best to just let the feelings wash over me and try not to fight them. I’ve learned that fighting them or trying to push them away often makes them worse.

Where this anger and rage comes from, I can only guess. I would assume from other dissociated parts of me. This knowledge (or assumption) doesn’t make the situation any easier though. The feelings are there, and they are big. But I’ve been trying to treat them the same way I try to treat every other part of me: with gentleness and acceptance. Which isn’t to say this is easy. But I’ve noticed when I can accept these feelings and just observe them and allow them to be there actually makes the overall experience of them much more manageable.

Now the question comes into play: what’s behind this anger and rage? I suppose that’s what therapy is supposed to help me with. For now, I’m going to try not to worry about it too much. After all, I have my vacation to enjoy!


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How do I cope with all this?

I don’t know what is happening to me. All these things are pushing up inside. All this commotion, confusion, anger, screams, desires to do drastic things, a strong desire to cut my body (a feeling I’ve never had before)… I don’t know what to do with all this. I am in over my head.

I don’t know why I think this, or where this idea comes from, but I have a feeling that all this stuff that is going on inside me relates to my birthday that is coming up in a few weeks. Which doesn’t make any sense. Birthdays are supposed to be a happy event, right? My memory is crap, but I seem to vaguely recall something similar to this happening last year leading up to my birthday. Or I could be completely making that up, I don’t know. All I know is that on my birthday weekend last year, another depressed part of me took over, and I helplessly watched while “I” stayed in bed the entire weekend.

I called Bean, my therapist, on her cell phone about twenty minutes ago and left her a message. Her cell is only supposed to be used for “emergencies only,” but in all honesty, this feels like an emergency. I can’t remember the last time I felt this emotionally chaotic and destabilized. I need to numb this. I want to numb this. I just don’t know how. I am completely lost and alone with all of this. I have been in such an awful place that I haven’t even been able to read other people’s blogs. That usually provides me some hope and sense of connection. I’m isolating myself because of these feelings; even on here.

All I ask is that my readers please don’t give up on me. As pathetic as this might sound, I need you right now. I am usually not one to ask for help or support, but I am in major need of both these things. Even admitting this brings a sick feeling into my gut. I must ignore it.

I was conditioned growing up to always be positive. To always smile and act cheerful. If not, my father would act rageful toward me and my mom would ignore me altogether. So even being open and telling you all how bad I am doing and how much I am struggling sends fear through my body- that you will all hate me, or you will all ignore me. I’m not sure which one is worse.

I am hanging onto a thin, thin thread. What I need is a lifeline. Anyone know where I might be able to find one?


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The mysteries continue

I spoke with my father this evening. I made the obligatory call for Father’s Day. As I was talking to him, I could feel my calmness and serenity being squeezed out of me. What took its place was agitation. Agitation and anger. Even now I can feel the anger bubbling, brewing, churning, pushing up like hot lava wanting to erupt. Why.

Every time I’m around him this happens and I push it down. Every time he goes to hug me when I see him, a part of me is screaming inside. Why.

My father never abused me. Perhaps he was strict at times and perhaps he got angry at times, but overall he was attentive and affectionate. Or is just what I’ve convinced myself.

My thoughts are all jumbled. I feel like I’ve stepped into a nightmare and I’m not even sure why, or what the nightmare is. All I know is that something is just really really wrong.

Thankfully I see my therapist tomorrow. Perhaps we can begin to work out this mystery. I need to try to set this nightmare aside tonight. I just hope I can.


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