Engage the Rage

I think the type of anger I have is a little closer to rage.

A thick, stifling, deep, dark red rage.

It sometimes feels like my blood is literally boiling under my skin.

Bubbling up at least.

I can feel it in my veins when I’m angry.

My face flushes.

I become aggressive and unpredictable.

I get completely irrational.

Even just a few moments before the anger takes over.

I can’t think straight.

I start having these circular thoughts when it happens.

Obsessing over every shitty thing that can flash in front of my mind at once.

Every horrible thing that everyone has ever said to me.

There’s also whatever bullshit the voices say layered on that.

I’ve come to understand that my voices sometimes just repeatedly mimic past situations.

Once someone calls me a name.

Or laughs at me wrong.

Or says a specific sentence.

A specific word even.

Once the situation happens, it’s game on for my voices.

They’ll say it on repeat for months.

Years.

They don’t care.

They assist me obsessing over shit.

After all, they are this kind of a subconscious for me.

They see everything I do.

Feel everything I feel.

Know everything I know.

It’s like how they say your dreams parallel and reflect every face you’ve ever seen.

After someone sees a face, subconsciously, they never forget it or something like that.

The mind, the subconscious, can’t assemble a new face..

Read about it here.

Something like that.

These voices parrot real and hurtful quotes.

They don’t talk about much that I haven’t thought of before.

So all of this mixes together for me.

At the same time.

These dream faces and head voices and everything else, mix in with reality.

Hence my hallucinations and delusions.

I have SUCH a hard time separating things.

I think that’s where a lot of my frustrations come from.

Confusion, really.

When I see red, and the voices are screaming at everything.

Usually, I can’t contain the rage.

My anger.

Their anger.

The merging of the two.

It takes over and I have to physically relieve it somehow.

So I grunt loudly.

Put one solid fist on the coffee table, or worse.

And scream.

I yell.

I raise my voice.

I cry and holler at whomever the fuck just dared to say something to me.

To dare engage the rage.

I grind my teeth.

I’ve cracked fillings before with my jaw clenching.

I tense every single muscle in my body and can’t dare to let go.

For hours.

Sometimes even days at a time.

I do literally let it take over me.

I snap.

As I look back it’s honestly fucking embarrassing.

So many countless times of me being soooo fuuuucking maaaad.

Breaking shit.

Instantly making a social situation awkward.

Splitting everyone apart from the middle out.

Burning bridges left and right.

One of my ex boyfriends and I would crack up because our discussions and back and forth would clear a room.

Mind you that was in my roarin twenties.

But I used to absolutely think my anger was funny.

My anger issues have definitely been a problem in many different parts of my life.

It leaches out of its cage in me.

It thrives on little, stupid things.

The little things that add up to a ball of meaningless, blinding frustration.

I have walked out of appointments.

I have yelled at doctors.

Anyone really.

And I make scenes.

I hate my anger issues.

They’re alienating and compulsive.

They have an ability to suck me in like no other emotion.

To swallow me whole.

And spit me out in a downtown dumpster.

Recently this has been a different story.

Thank fuck.

I mean, my anger is getting better now.

Very slowly.

Which is better than it staying the same or getting worse.

Like with so many other aspects of my life, I have to change.

I have to start to do something totally different than I have before.

All of these old coping mechanisms are so exhausting.

I noticed that lately, my anger hasn’t taken over like this.

Within a month it happened once.

Where I couldn’t contain it and threw my fist down in anger.

This is a huge thing for me.

Anger and depression are my highs and lows.

I’m glad to have a slow shedding of something that eggs on my shit behaviors.

I always thought I was just an angry person.

Well, I don’t know who wouldn’t be angry with all this fucking chatter all the time.

It’s constant some days.

And I’m finally understanding that the voices have had a lot to do with everything.

They make me SO mad.

They encourage my rage.

They stand there and discuss all of my faults with one another.

I know I’ve always hated myself.

And the rage for sure surfaces out of that.

But my anger feels like it’s just melted away this month.

I haven’t done anything different, ya know?

Then I realized it.

It’s fucking quiet.

It’s the meds.

I’m not hearing this literal constant banter and horrible things being said about me and everything else.

It’s refreshing to not be enraged every moment of every day.

I just my injection again on Tuesday this week.

And I feel really good.

My head feels like it sighed with relief about three hours after the appointment.

I am floored by how much this medicine is helping me. 

I can start to understand and see the work I’ve been putting into my mental health. 

I know I have a long road ahead.

But the fading of this incessant rage I have is freeing.

– Keren