Lately I have been waking up feeling angry. It is an odd emotion for me because if you know me, it is probably unlikely that you have seen me angry. On a practical level, it is simply an exhausting, consuming and, until now I thought, a superbly pointless emotion.
The anger I am feeling now used to be heart break. I spent a good part of fall experiencing my first, terrible heart break. I generally describe it to friends as the "Adele" relationship. The one that I would create a masterpiece out of because its madness was the consuming kind. One that people would tell you, you will just work through and eventually let go, but you know you had to write a song about it because then you could secretly sing of its pain as long as you needed to.
At some point months of 1x repeat Pink and Adele later, I got sick of being sad. I got so bored of staring into an abyss of tissues, crab rangoons and photographs, no longer knowing what I was when I was not loved.
But then I started getting kind of pissed.
It started with anger at him. I was so angry that because of him, I had lost that small part of me that was light. That was not tainted by pessimism and the harsh reality of life. That part that let me fall in love so quickly, and not fear it, because it was a beautiful thing.
And now it was gone. All that was left in its absence was the ache of an empty space, slowly being filled with a growing rage.
I hated that he had loved me just enough. Just enough to sear into my memory how wonderful it was, so I could never make him into a monster. So I could never hate him. Now where was all the anger supposed to go?
Then I got angry at myself. How could I, an empowered, educated woman, let him take that away from me? Why was I so weak! Why could I hear his voice telling me I was wrong every time I was sure of myself? Why couldn't I just get myself together. How did you not see this coming, I mean really. and for godsake, why couldn't I just move. on.
Eventually, I answered some of those questions, but most of them I didn't because I realized I did not really need to know. I just accepted that I had loved, and like any great risk in life, I had lost. The anger that I felt however has changed me.
I have begun to find things in the world around me that make me angry again. Things I guess I thought I had stopped becoming angry about a long time ago because I thought it was better to just channel it into passion to make the world a better place. However, the one thing I know for sure, is that logic and emotion are two entirely separate, but equally valuable beasts. So I can likely tell myself all day long that anger is pointless, but I can at the same time still feel it completely and alot of the time.
Over the years, in order to find peace with this dichotomy, I fused those ideas together and just believed that feeling anger is pointless. That it is an emotion for the less disciplined, and immature. But I was wrong. Because there is a lot to be angry about and right now, I think this anger, this unfamiliar bubbling rage, may just be saving my life.
I am angry about everything. Woody Allen, what boys say to me and think is funny, but makes my stomach hurt, how that play portayed rape victims like lunatics, how Ian Sumerhalder commented on the immense number of boobies in a conference about girls empowerment, how when I say how I feel with out sugar coating it, people ask why I am so worked up, how I feel guilty about being this rage-filled woman and not a "chill" one, how it took me a weeks to work up the courage to wear a crop top even though I preach loving ones body, how young women all around me are fighting a losing battle to be prettier, faster, smarter, when being themselves should be more than enough, how people forget that homeless does not mean no longer human, how a young man can still die of AIDS because that is a reality for the undocumented.
Its exhausting, especially if you count all the tiny things, but I no longer feel like I am shrinking. I think I am growing again. My shell that had so much space in it now feels less hollow and is filling with things. I don't know how long this will go on because I have always naturally been a lover, but I think I am becoming a fighter.
And I think I kind of like it.
The anger I am feeling now used to be heart break. I spent a good part of fall experiencing my first, terrible heart break. I generally describe it to friends as the "Adele" relationship. The one that I would create a masterpiece out of because its madness was the consuming kind. One that people would tell you, you will just work through and eventually let go, but you know you had to write a song about it because then you could secretly sing of its pain as long as you needed to.
At some point months of 1x repeat Pink and Adele later, I got sick of being sad. I got so bored of staring into an abyss of tissues, crab rangoons and photographs, no longer knowing what I was when I was not loved.
But then I started getting kind of pissed.
It started with anger at him. I was so angry that because of him, I had lost that small part of me that was light. That was not tainted by pessimism and the harsh reality of life. That part that let me fall in love so quickly, and not fear it, because it was a beautiful thing.
And now it was gone. All that was left in its absence was the ache of an empty space, slowly being filled with a growing rage.
I hated that he had loved me just enough. Just enough to sear into my memory how wonderful it was, so I could never make him into a monster. So I could never hate him. Now where was all the anger supposed to go?
Then I got angry at myself. How could I, an empowered, educated woman, let him take that away from me? Why was I so weak! Why could I hear his voice telling me I was wrong every time I was sure of myself? Why couldn't I just get myself together. How did you not see this coming, I mean really. and for godsake, why couldn't I just move. on.
Eventually, I answered some of those questions, but most of them I didn't because I realized I did not really need to know. I just accepted that I had loved, and like any great risk in life, I had lost. The anger that I felt however has changed me.
I have begun to find things in the world around me that make me angry again. Things I guess I thought I had stopped becoming angry about a long time ago because I thought it was better to just channel it into passion to make the world a better place. However, the one thing I know for sure, is that logic and emotion are two entirely separate, but equally valuable beasts. So I can likely tell myself all day long that anger is pointless, but I can at the same time still feel it completely and alot of the time.
Over the years, in order to find peace with this dichotomy, I fused those ideas together and just believed that feeling anger is pointless. That it is an emotion for the less disciplined, and immature. But I was wrong. Because there is a lot to be angry about and right now, I think this anger, this unfamiliar bubbling rage, may just be saving my life.
I am angry about everything. Woody Allen, what boys say to me and think is funny, but makes my stomach hurt, how that play portayed rape victims like lunatics, how Ian Sumerhalder commented on the immense number of boobies in a conference about girls empowerment, how when I say how I feel with out sugar coating it, people ask why I am so worked up, how I feel guilty about being this rage-filled woman and not a "chill" one, how it took me a weeks to work up the courage to wear a crop top even though I preach loving ones body, how young women all around me are fighting a losing battle to be prettier, faster, smarter, when being themselves should be more than enough, how people forget that homeless does not mean no longer human, how a young man can still die of AIDS because that is a reality for the undocumented.
Its exhausting, especially if you count all the tiny things, but I no longer feel like I am shrinking. I think I am growing again. My shell that had so much space in it now feels less hollow and is filling with things. I don't know how long this will go on because I have always naturally been a lover, but I think I am becoming a fighter.
And I think I kind of like it.
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