Anger

When your left alone with nothing but deadend silence and your own thoughts, the results can be quite devastating. That’s where your demons come in and take full reign. And as I’m lying in bed, wrestling with these destructive thoughts, I can’t help but reflect on how many times I’ve been here before in the past. You can almost connect the dots and match the patterns as you start to realize your thoughts have been down this path before….

It’s not a pleasant road, let me tell you that from experience. And it frightens me. This all too familiar path is full of Hatred. Anger. Emotions that I loathe to have. For I really do love everything and everyone that God created in this world. I respect an individuals thought, feeling, emotion, their rights, being and creation. So to stumble on an old familiar evil that I know isn’t of my own, but of my disease, breaks my heart even more tremendously.

Anger

It’s always there now. Welled up in the back of my throat, screaming to be released. Anger about everything. Anger at God. Anger at my family. Anger at all the evil in this world, going on daily, every hour, every second….it’s always there….lingering. I can’t shed it off of my skin. It weighs heavily upon my shoulders, making it hard to breathe. I’m just so damned angry.

On an earlier post, I commented on how everyone in my house is just watching me whither away. How everyone is being so silent, almost to the point as if they are mentally preparing for my suffering to end and my impending death. Maybe they’re pretending that the very existence of what I am (a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a loved one) that my very being in this world, is fading out/dying, so that when I do pass, the pain won’t be as tremendous.

But, I know deep in my heart, past all this hate, sadness, and hopelessness, that they do truly love me. Maybe they just don’t know what to do anymore. I’m sure this illness is exhausting to them and taking its toll. Who knows….I’m always left with thoughts that seem to change in a moment’s notice, with that damned anger always trailing behind me in the end.

What I’m trying to say is that, depression coexist’s alongside with hatred. I believe the two go hand in hand because, depression seems to stem from anger. And then that anger, I believe, stems from fear. Fear is the root of just about everything. Fear can rattle you to the core and leave you paralyzed, unable to continue on in your lifes work and purpose. It can gut you to the point where you just give up. Why try when all of it seems so pointless? When you give up on life, you give up on EVERYTHING. That’s when your hatred comes in and some of us try incessantly to ignore that feeling and bury it deep within ourselves, somewhere. When we take that emotion and pack it away neatly in some deep dark corner of our mind, the sadness will start to roll in. It will create a never-ending loop of destruction, uncontrolled emotions and thoughts, acting out, or in my case…..to give up and whither away from the lack of courage and strength.

So while laying in bed I’ve decided that, instead of trying to bury all of this hate I feel, I will allow it to come out, only for a little bit, and let it peak it’s head around. To exercise the thought and emotion so it won’t control me as horrifically and take over. Mind you, it will be kept on a tight, short leash. Only because hatred deeply scares me. Which then starts to stem from my fears. Sounds taboo, doesn’t it? Being ashamed of such an emotion that is primal and inside of each and every human being? Fearing that the fear you feel, will turn into something that you can’t quite control?

Hopefully, with exercising, I can allow this anger to wash over me in delicate waves and to not let it overpour into a full blown tsunami, invading each and every one of my depressive thoughts.

I hate having this anger inside. I know deep down my family loves me. I just wished I loved myself enough to always know and see that. I wish I could stop running away from all my fears and stop entertaining these thoughts of suicide. Most of all….I want to reclaim my life. I want to remember what it feels like to love again. But I’m stuck in this nightmare. I am my own worst enemy.

I’m stuck at that door that only people who have experienced or are experiencing what I am going through, know about. That one door you run from and run too all at the same time. The divided path at your feet in which you struggle with in your mind on which  one seems to call out more for you to exist in this world anymore. Should I stay? Should I go? Should I flip a coin and leave it to chance? Is suicide really all that I have left?

I know the path of death may be offering me reprieve from all this weight I carry on my shoulders. But I can’t also help but wonder if the other path next to it, has a light at the end of the tunnel, a light in which maybe I can see again.

Your foot becomes paralyzed, mid-stepped in the air.  Which one? The one where all my fears will be washed and cleansed away into a pile of nothingness? The one that beckons you of sweet promises of never feeling the pain of guilt, anger, sadness, loneliness, or of being a complete failure ever again? Or the one that is mysteriously quiet, dark and unknown, leaving you with a haunting echo imprinted on your mind of “What if’s?”

In times like these, the deliberating choice pulls you apart on both ends. Leaves you wondering if you should play Russian Roulette with the flip of a coin. It leaves me with anger. Anger on how it all came down to this. So much so that, I’m now left deliberating about betting my life on chance.

Heads you win. Tails you lose. Or is it the other way around? Only that one path you choose can tell. The courage to have strength? Or the courage to let go….

 

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