This is where my fears really kick in; body issues, weeping, loneliness, and anxiety are all seen to be very female issues. We understand men can have them, but we expect women to experience them more often.
Rage, however, is less feminine, less acceptable, and less talked about.
I have a lot of rage. You probably know that, or you did before I realised it (this post is probably the giveaway).
Turns out that was surface level shit; I have repressed so much more. In a box in a box, buried underneath all my other issues, and its been dragging me down. Killing my libido, killing my bliss, killing me from the inside out. Fuck that, here’s an unfeminine statement for you; I am enraged, I am angry, I am wrath of the Gods, salt the ground, scorched earth, pre-biblical angry.
How dare he? How dare they? Who the fuck takes eight years of someones life, shits on it, and then admits that they were using that person for an extra year to get their own life in order. That even if they hadn’t met that person they would still have thrown their original partner away? Who does that?
I know I have a right to be angry, but the anger, the small angers, have been held back for so long that I don’t know where the present and the past meet. I suppressed my temper because he had a nasty temper; he would flip his lid and I knew if we screamed at each other it would go badly. So I bit my tongue, or I cried.
And I’m angry at ME for not calling his shit sooner; being called a cunt, a bitch, a stupid cow, silly cunt, being called fat, being told I’m stupid. I put up with that because I didn’t want to lose my temper.
And I’ll be honest; it wasn’t like that all of the time, or most of the time even. But I wonder if, on those rare occasions when it did happen, if I had bitten back he might have stopped that shit early.
So I can feel it bubbling here and I don’t know how to let it out? Do you? Can you help?
The gym, drinking, running away, screaming into a pillow all seem so… inadequate. I need something to bite down on while this passes or I’m going to make myself sick. Sicker than I already am.
What I really want is to go Nomad.
Off the grid, away from everything and everyone.
Me, the dogs, the car, and the road. Then the forest. Then the sea. Just… peace.
But what’re the chances of that, eh?