Today I had the urge to destroy. Shatter glass, smash a mug, throw things. It came after hours of crying over mistreatment, feeling unworthy of things others have because they have not come my way. The anger came because I refused to feel sad anymore and it was as though the energy had to be channeled somehow. I am sick. Sick of feeling despair and grief. Of mourning that which has never been. The still birth relationships that never got a chance to draw breath. I wanted to scream and cause damage.
Blind rage is only something I’ve felt twice in my life but this was different. It was an active decision. A choice to push away the tears which pushed the energy a different direction. Almost as if by channeling the energy away from self forced it outward.
I have heard that women are more prone to self harm while men take their pain out on others. I wanted to break the stereotype, to inflict pain on those who had wronged me. I wanted to not have to tell those close to me what I needed, feeling that I anticipate and act on people’s needs quickly when it’s called for. I felt owed.
On levels beyond my desire to enumerate there is debt. But there is no court to be held for emotional payment. No line to stand in to get your due. It is either extracted or the deficit left until you forget to remember it’s there or you fill your own cup.
And this is the beauty and the bullshit of life.