Rage, Rage, Go Away

I'm getting tired. I'm so tired of him, them, me.

I just want it to be over.

That sounds familiar. Haven't I always just wanted it to be over?

My anger has been getting the best of me. Not completely, not always, but more and more lately. I'm not sure why. Time of year maybe? ha - time of month? No, that would belittle it. Not time of month but maybe time of year. I think summertime has always been the hardest.... I think...

I saw my therapist almost two weeks ago. I have avoided thinking of this for two weeks. I also haven't slept well for two weeks and have been incredibly snappy. At everyone.

My dreams have been keeping me from sleep. I haven't dreamt about him, everything but him actually. Work, the kids, Jeff's ex-girlfriend, cake.... random.

Been restless. I feel better when I work out. But if I can't, i feel enraged. I felt it tonight. There wasn't any reason for it. Jeff did nothing wrong. If anything he was being thoughtful. I didn't care. But I didn't lash out as much as I wanted to. I wanted to scream. I wanted to kick a hole in the wall and rip the curtains down. I wanted to hear something break, see it shatter... I wanted to feel better.

I can still feel it. My anger. It's down there, bubbling, waiting, bubbling, waiting....

I purposely did not call my kids tonight. Because I feel so much anger.

Two weeks ago on a Sunday, walking to church with Jeff and the kids, I felt this rage. I recognize it. I can see it coming and sometimes I can avoid it, like a guy on the street that looks like he might want to rip you off. hurt you. slap you in the head and take your purse and run. If you turn in a different direction, maybe that guy will go after someone else. But lately, I have not been able to avoid him. He walks right up to me and pushes as hard as he can.

"Do you see me? I know you can see me." push, push, shove. "you think you can ignore me? you think you can make me go away?" Slap, shove, kick. "well guess what you little bitch, you can't. you hear me? YOU. CAN'T."

And he's right. I can't.

I can feel him, running through my veins, faster and faster, until I'm afraid to look down at my arms because I think i will be able to see it moving and this will just scare the shit out of me. It's bad enough that I can feel him, that I can hear him, I don't want to see him moving in me.

Where was I? Ah, yes. We were walking to church. It was nothing really, what set me off. You see, our church was collecting food for the food bank. I had a bag and I was taking it inside. Halfway there, Jeff turns to me and says he thinks we're supposed to drop the food off in the parking area. Rational Shables thinks, no biggie. I'll take it back to the car. Rational Shables even thinks, I'm pretty sure that's not right but I'll still take it back to the car. They wait for me while I go.
On my way back to the car, Rational Shables leaves and Rage comes in.
I pass a guy on my way, also carrying a bag of food. I notice and I think to myself, Jeff's going to see him too and he's going to know he was wrong.
My Rage smiles.
I keep walking. Within seconds my cell phone rings. It is Jeff. I know why he's calling. I don't want to answer. I'm almost to the car. I answer anyway and sure enough, he saw the guy with the bag. No worries I say, I'm already here. I put the bag in the car and walk back.

There is now a war going on inside me.

Rational Shables has come back. She's speaking very calmly, very rationally, about the situation. There's nothing to be upset about. It's so minor, it's almost laughable. Really. Let it go and enjoy the day. Your family is waiting for you.

Rage won't have it. It's reverse psychology with Rage. he's impersonating Rational but doing a piss poor job of it. Still. it works. Yeah, what are you mad about you freakin idiot? Your husband is trying to be helpful and you're freaking out. Pretty standard for you eh Shabes? You've always been like this. Making a big deal about everything. You suck you know that? You suck. And one of these days He's going to see it, just like that last one did. And then what? You'll be alone again. Like you should be. No one can love you. You ruin everything.

I am walking in front of Jeff and the kids. I am in the middle of a war. And I am losing.

Inside. Up the stairs. One, then two, and three. Kiss, kiss, bye, have fun. Walking down the aisle, to our seats, purse down, sing, clap, sit. Breathe. focus. But I can't. Rage has come over me and I am shaking. Rage and Rational are both speaking to me and I can't think. I want to cry, I want to make it stop.
Instead I say to Jeff, "I am so mad at you right now."
The look on his face kills me. It does. It kills me. I am such a horrible wife. He looks like I slapped him. The hurt I made him feel is reflected all over his face and now I can feel it too and I just can't process it. The Rage intensifies because now I am so furious at myself.

I want to push him off the balcony.

I want to throw myself over.
Of course I do neither. After all, it is church. jeez. get a grip.

And then I do.

The Rage leaves. God is there and even though I feel like the cruelest, most insane person in the room, I can feel God next to me. I grab Jeff's hand. He looks at me and smiles. I feel horrible again but not in the way that makes me want to hurt, but in the way that makes me want to make it better. When service is over I tell him I am so sorry.
And then he apologizes to me. what? why? because that's the kind of guy he is.
I wanted to cry. Again. Instead I tell him he did nothing, nothing. It was all me.
I'm forgiven.

Grace extended is the most amazing feeling in the world. It makes you want to lay down and weep but also jump up and shout with joy, with victory, because there is no guilt in grace. It is a gift of freedom. You have been let off the hook for being an ass-jack. It's just beautiful.

I tell my therapist.

She does not look surprised. Apparently it is typical for those that have been abused. Fabulous.

But actually, it kind of is. It used to be so much worse.

"Have you ever been a cutter?" No, I was never a cutter. I had never heard of cutting when I was a teenager. Maybe if I had I would have been. No, not a cutter. I was a hitter. I would hit others but so often, I would wail on myself. It almost seems funny, in a hysterical sort of way, I mean, who hits themselves? But I did.

Rage would come and i had no where to put it. Drugs didn't help like I thought they would. Sex, well, sex would be ok if I didn't have such contempt for boys. God, I thought they were so stupid. I smoked cigarettes. that would help sometimes but usually after I hit.

Rage. I would grab my face and pinch and pull, and claw at it. I'd take my fist and smash it into my face. I'd pound my head into the wall as hard as I could. I'd grab my own hair and try to rip it out.

And I would scream. and scream. and scream. Until there was nothing left.

I would wish I was dead.

And then I would wish he was.

I'd picture his funeral. His grave. everyone standing around crying, mourning, clutching each other for support.
Everyone except me.
I would stand there, off to the side, alone, leaning on no one. I'd stare at them all. I wouldn't shed one tear. I would be the pillar of strength and they would be crushed under me. They wouldn't be able to look me in the eye, not one. Because they would know they are wrong.

This is what I would daydream. And it would make me feel better.

And then I'd go smoke.

I haven't done that to myself for a very long time. But I've wanted to.

It's incredible to me - where God meets us. where He comforts us. Right in the middle of our slimy, dirty, degradable, shit. At the exact moment I feel I may go crazy, He is there.

I used to wonder why He let it happen at all. then i realized one day how stupid that question is.

It would be easier I guess to blame God. To say he could have stopped it because i guess, technically, he could have. He could have struck him dead or miraculously put s force field around me or called down from heaven in a deep voice or.....or..... or.....

But that's not the way it works.
The only ones that I can blame are the ones that chose to do it....

....... and the ones that chose to do nothing to stop it.

Their jacked up choices, their sick desires, that's what put me here. Everyone has to take responsibility for themselves. Everyone will be accountable for what they did or didn't do. We will stand alone.

and that's when I'll be vindicated. When no one is there to protect him, when no one can shield him, when he's alone and on his knee, trembling and terrified. That's when I'll be vindicated. It is a horrible thing, to fall in the hands of the Living God. And it will be horrible for him.
God is the mirror.
Everything he should be, will be reflected. And then he will see everything he is not.
All of those emotions i wish he felt now, he'll feel then.

And he won't be able to stand.

Until then, my anger, my Rage, it will still come. But I'm hoping, I'm praying, fewer and farther between. I've already come so far. The mountains are behind me now. In front, these are just hills. I can do those. I can.

With God's help, and my family's patience, I will get there.

Rage tells me this is impossible. It will never happen, peace, it will never come.

I'm telling Rage to shut up. To stick it. To go away. I'm not playing this game anymore. I know who Rage is and I know what he wants. To rob me of my life, my joy. To kill me and my sanity. To steal away my family and my love. To make me blame God so I'll hate Him too.

Rage - he's a liar. A good one, the best even. But I'm not believing him anymore.

I know who wins.