Thursday, April 2, 2015

One Word in Front of the Other

I need to write for my healing.
I need to.
God WANTS me to.

But I don't know if I have anything worthwhile to write.

This afternoon, I sit in a sort of pit of resentment.  I feel sadness.  I want to feel anger, but I was raised NOT TO and breaking that weird pattern in my brain seems pretty impossible.  I can't seem to let anger out and so it's been wandering around my body and soul for a solid 6 years... starting up street fights now and then but never getting out of town. 
I wish I had the fire of Calamity Jane and Annie Oakley -to pull out my pistols and challenge all of the anger in me to a hot shoot-out.  My backside would end up on the dusty trail and I'd be bloodied, torn, and battered BUT ALIVE.
I'd blow my smoking gun and assert my dominance.  Something like, "this body ain't big enough for the both of us."
Because it isn't.  But we're all still walking around together, passive aggressively giving up our side of the street for one another.

How do I let it out?

I know there's answers.  I know those answers work, but here's the thing: they don't work for ME.  My entire being will not fully let anger out.

I have quietly burned things.  I have written.  I have gone running. I have huffed and puffed.
But the anger is still residing within, and I am still hit with it whenever it decides to come poking up.

I fantasize about letting it go, but I don't know if I can.
I want to WANT to let go of my resentments, but I worry that after the resentment is gone, there won't be anything left to keep me strong.

I remember the hurt and pain, and I hold boundaries because of them.  What if I let go of some of that?
There's a part of me that's afraid of "going back" to the girl I was all those years ago -the starry-eyed 19 year old who trusted and loved unabashedly -who reigned not in her passion for love, romance and life.
I lived ALL IN.

If I have my resentments, I am not ALL IN again and I feel wiser, safer and boarded up.
I can feel myself inching toward letting them go, and it terrifies me.
I know the answers to fixing myself -rather, letting God save me, but when it comes to trauma... rational application of healthy thinking doesn't really make much of an impact.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't want to be fixed.
I don't want links or articles or help because I have access to my gut, and I know what my gut needs and there's a raging war going on between my gut and my broken brain and it's all very exhausting.

And when links get sent my way, I feel inadequate because I'm a prideful person.

I mostly want progress in myself faster than I'm able to give it because I'm impatient.
My pride is very strong, my will is too.

I know my resentments are killing me.  I know because they are there, festering under a myriad of healthy, rational new habits and bright, happy healing... they will bite. 
And when they do, I spend more time in drama, more time hurt, more time obsessing, comparing, fighting, surrendering.

James Allen says that when we are at peace with ourselves, no one can hurt us.
Holding onto resentments is proof that I am not at peace.
Trying to convince the hurt girl inside of me that she needs to pry up the nails and boards around her is excruciating. 

And honestly?  I don't exactly what anger looks like for me. 
Because I've never lost it before.

Can I live life all in again?
Can I let myself?


  1. I can so relate to your post. I know I need to get angry but I feel Heavenly Father is blessing me with calm so u can get through all of this. But I'm also scared to get angry really angry what if I loose it? What if I cannot gain control. Control makes me feel safe. As I right this I had a thought maybe I need to loose it to restart myself. Like starting from zero. I've been thinking about who am I? This new divorced person? How will my future be? What will I make of it? Perhaps I need to loose it to move forward?

  2. You know, the things I regret most are the times I completely lost it with my husband. I hit, I screamed, I yelled, I flushed his cell phone, and I threw things. When I ran out of things to throw, I actually threw the dog at him. It was ugly. I was ugly. I lost some respect for myself.
    And yet... Those low points, those dark places of anger and hate, that is what helped me more than anything move forward, make changes, come unto Christ. That is what got me to really dig in to my healing, to kick it up a notch, and go all in.
    So while I don't recommend losing it, that was my rock bottom. That was when my healing actually started meaning something.