I left the call with my therapist flushed, nervous, and on edge. My right ear burned, I felt the sting of thirst in my throat.
We had just dug up a crucial part of the story that has burdened me for the last 5 years. If you stick around, I’m sure I’ll tell that part of the story, but for now, all you need to know is this event was entangled in a mess that left me without a job, with a new diagnosis, and with a wish to give it all up, including my life.
I’ve been angry before. That is nothing new.
This event was different though. It slashed a hole in my head and heart in ways I’m still discovering. I’ve been enraged in many ways since.
I took a break, ate some lunch, and tried to move on with my day after the therapy session. Then I got a message asking about something for the fourth time. I had told them each time I would take care of it and that they shouldn’t do what they were asking about.
I sat in my chair, dumbfounded that someone would constantly pester me about this when they know it takes time, they know I’m very responsible, and they know I’ve asked them not to do this (just read the message that’s still in the chat window…it’s right there…and it’s there again, right above that…)
Finally I decided I needed to complain about this to my wife. I started out fine, but the more I talked, and the more she tried to de-escalate and point out my over-reaction, the rage boiled over and I could do nothing to stop it.
The person I was angry about has recently entered my life in a way reminiscent of that traumatic event 5 years ago. All I could see in that moment was a dangerous threat. I didn’t see a human in this person. I saw a monster, looking for any reason to rip my life away from me, just like what happened before in other circumstances.
The problem is, once I started on my rampage, there was no stopping. I shouted about how “everyone’s out to get me” and other idiotic proclamations like “I’m perfect, no one else is, and the second I mis-step, they’ll pounce.”
It was too much. I had gone too far again. My wife told me my behavior (shouting, throwing tantrums) was unacceptable (which is definitely true). I spiraled the rest of the evening, into the darkest of thoughts.
In true irony, I ended up over-stressing a muscle in my back as I rage-walked on the treadmill. Hardly sleeping, I felt awful the next day, just like I deserved. I could barely move without pain, and my brain continued to bring up memories or thoughts proving how inconsequential, ineffective, and pointless I am—and anything I have done.
In that “dark night of the soul” experience I came away with a new focus and new questions. My focus now must be to control myself, and my rage. Everything is dependent on it: my job, my marriage, my health.
How can I control my anger in a way that doesn’t allow it to just build up to volcano-level some other time?
How can I predict the times I’m most susceptible to rage?
How can I actually heal from this?
That’s what I’m exploring on this blog. If you’ve made it this far, let’s keep going together.
