I have written the intro to this blog more times than I care to admit. And each time I come to a limit of two sentences before I get irritated, give up and erase my progress.
My intent was to vent about my ever growing rage at life, but I can barely compose my thoughts once I get passed the “I’m angry.” Instead it just sounds like the ramblings of a mad man so unhinged his thoughts of “retribution” drifts into dark waters, and that is a person I do not want to be. Unfortunately though, I am him.
I am angry. And everyday it grows because I have absolutely zero control of my life.
In the logical crevasses of my brain, chimes the response: “but you have control of how you react.”
I thoroughly loathe that answer.
The anger I feel, gives me the “sense” of control. Like I am accomplishing something. Yet all it does is agitate me further. And the cycle begins anew.
My husband told me once that the only thing I know how to feel is anger. It was the first time I was ever presented with that, obvious, point of view. Even now as I try to pick it apart and offer some logical conclusion, the only thing I find is that it’s my sadness masquerading as anger. Feeling sad is weak. And I don’t want to be weak.
Yet, I say that, and do believe it, however I am also the man who won’t stop himself when I begin to cry. I let my emotions flow when they are there. I am quite the conundrum and confuse even myself.