Red Tide of Anger

Francesco Marino

I lost my temper yesterday.

I’ve been angry and lost my temper before, so there’s nothing unique about that. Yesterday, I felt the anger rising and didn’t bury it, didn’t push it away. I let it come. I let it out. I even swore. A lot. What did Chris do? Seeing as he was on the receiving end of my temper…

He clapped.         

“You’re angry”.

“Finally”.

It didn’t feel good getting angry. To feel it swell up like a red tide, unstoppable and breaking over everything inside me, shattering into a million tiny pieces. And afterwards? The tears fell.

I know Chris is right, that “anger is part of a healthy emotional spectrum”. Knowing doesn’t make it easy. I have a lifetime behind me of hiding my anger, hiding every strong emotion. I’ll take yesterday as another step forward… I guess. Although, I will need to learn a better way to deal with anger.

Chris asked the other day if I thought the fog was brought on by unexpressed anger. “I’m not angry with anyone“. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel the word hang in the air… “Exactly”. It’s not anger alone, it’s every strong emotion, good and bad.

Image: Francesco Marino / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

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Remembering… Starting School

Starting School

luigi diamanti

I have very few memories of early childhood. Old family photographs don’t jolt memories loose, so it’s fairly safe to say starting school had an impact on me as it is my earliest memory.

My mother held my hand as we walked to the Preschool. We walked into the building and there was a lady standing before us with long brown hair. She smiled as she spoke to me. I didn’t understand a word she was saying, but when she took my hand and led me away I didn’t even notice my mother leave. I only had eyes for that smile.

I was three and a half years old and I couldn’t speak English. I was sent to preschool early since I wasn’t learning the language at home. At times I wonder what it means that a smile could capture the heart of a little girl that easily. Did my family not smile? Did their friends not smile? The old photos say they did. Thinking about it, my father hadn’t stopped drinking yet, so maybe there weren’t that many smiles at home when I was little.

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Music and the Fog

I really enjoy youtubing, watching whatever takes my fancy, random clips or songs from the suggestions list, seeing where I end up. The journey can be very erratic. Not sure what I mean by erratic? Try working out the path I took from listening to some Abba to watching all of Twin Peaks a few weeks ago. The mind boggles.

Anyway, keeping to music, I’m sure I’m not the only person to drift from genre to genre, playing a song over and over when it strikes a chord. I find some songs, or at least the way certain songs resonate with me to be a good mood indicator.

The last few weeks while in my fog I’ve been playing two songs over and over. It’s not that I don’t listen to other songs, but these two sit in open tabs and get played most days. More than once. Sometimes one after the other, sometimes with time between. They both struck a chord inside. Kind of random choices… they don’t really go together in my mind, so I thought I’d share them. Do they signal a dual mood? Shrug. No idea. The first has piano in it, which I can always get lost in. I have thought about why I’ve been attached to the second song while in the fog this time. Either it’s a reminder that things always do get better or it distracts me from feeling down. Maybe a little of each.

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Fog! Just Talk Woman!

In the fog

Dan

I’ve been stuck in what I describe as a fog for the last few weeks. It’s lifting but it still has a hold. It’s not an emotional fog, as I don’t  really get emotional while I’m in it. Avoiding the emotion is why I go into it. Coming out is another matter. The fog is a response to an emotional overload. Yep, another survival behaviour learned from growing up. When I feel like this I end up with so much churning around in my head and as soon as I open my mouth… silence. My mind stutters, my tongue ties and then my mind goes blank. Once I close my mouth and stop looking for the words the thoughts begin to float again. Simply put, the words are lost in the fog. I’m lost in the fog. For weeks I’ve wanted to scream into the fog… Where are the words?

I can’t describe feelings or express my thoughts. Even simple conversation becomes difficult. I know the words are there, I just can’t find them. They’re insubstantial. I can feel thoughts churning, but I can’t bring them out. It’s frustrating. For the first time I was able to talk about being in the fog, while in the fog. I had to force every word out, my head began to hurt as I did, but the words did get out…

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