At this middle-age stage of life I wonder: “Is there time left for me to see and be my truth?”
Recently, at therapy, a discussion around anger. My anger suppressed and turned inward.
Emotionally-abandoned as a child, my MO became to hold all my hurt and anger in so as not to create any more reasons for the adults in my life to walk away.
When certain adults abused my trust I, as any child would, turned that inside and found fault with myself.
Of course, as I grew older I learned to understand that being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people when one is an innocent is not a fault. It just is. If we are fortunate enough to survive we continue on our life path, however diverted, the best we can until we find our compass once again and can move on.
Still, for many years I paid the price for others’ delusions. As the perps walked off into their miserable sunset I was left with a heap of baggage for which I didn’t ask. For years I struggled to find a way to walk my path with my head held high while bearing the additional burden of a heavy, uncertain heart.
All the while I held my anger. I turned it inside. Beat myself up. Disguised my pain with the quest for perfection demanding nothing less of myself. Nothing I did was ever good enough. I lived in a constant state of needy anxiety, expending my precious energy making good for everyone but myself.
Well, in recent years this has stopped for the most part. My guided journey to self-awareness has helped me to release a lot of the baggage and, to some degree, lifted the weight off my heart.
Perhaps now it is safe to express my anger in a wholesome and healing way. And perhaps by learning to freely express my anger I will finally secure my voice.
We’ll see …
Anger
The beginning of anger
Where does it start?
The abyss of the mind?
The depths of the heart?
Where does it live
When we can’t set it free,
When we turn it inside
So that no one will see?
~*~
Say nothing, I beg you,
No, don’t let them know
Don’t give them another
Bad reason to go.
~*~
So, down I suppress it
Down, down somewhere deep
Where no one will venture.
Still, I feel it creep
Like a deep-sea diversion
Off balance and old,
That feeds my self-loathing ~
My soul feeling sold.
~*~
Dark is this truth that
Resides deep within,
My anger derived
From another man’s sin.
The choices he made;
The energy he stole;
A childhood lost
Made this adult less whole.
~*~
Give voice to my anger?
Oh yes, it is time,
Through essay or story;
Through free verse or rhyme.
Free of the burden
Free of the pain
The loss of this misery
Surely my gain.
~*~
Thanks for visiting.
Dorothy
©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2014