I curse the day I was born

We can get angry to the point where we want to curse the day we were born, but being held in our anger allows us to go through and not around the pain.

It was about time they got angry.

As the words vomited at me, through me, and around me, I thanked God. Finally, they were letting some of their real self be seen. No more holding back emotions for appearance’s sake. Now it was raw, unfettered, and verbally violent.

It wasn’t just the irritation of the current painful situation. It was the culmination of stuffing down the resentments of a lifetime. It was anger at me, anger at God, and anger at everyone in between.

And I encouraged the outflow. They needed to express themselves and get it out.

Afterward, they would be tired, perhaps ashamed they had been so angry, but they needed to know that it was safe and that even God, full of love, mercy, and grace, can be angry like this yet not lose the mark of love.

Sometimes I am angry like this. I want to throw rocks, punch the wall, and smash things. It’s ok.

Life doesn’t run the way I think it should, so I lose it inside. I rage with a smile on the outside but boiling on the inside. Not good, not healthy when I religiously repress.

What do you do with the pain of being human?

What do you do with emotional pain that entombs you in a dark hole?

 

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