Fire and Ice

I've been a broken record for quite some time. Going over the myrid side effects of my illness... the pain and problems of my childhood. But I have skirted something else that I have been afraid to talk about. Yes it deals with my being sick... but it's different then you imagine. As one friend put it "Isn't it a good thing kind of?".

I haven't felt angry... really angry in a long time. I act angry but inside I feel cold and empty. Like an ice that burns. Anger should feel hot and fill your belly with fire... not feel cold and hollow. In truth I have felt this way in more then just my anger... I avoid making choices or commitments because I have most my desire, passion and drive. Like A robot I've moved and acted without feeling...

Tonight I put my favorite song on and listened. For those not in the know it's "The Warmth" by Incubus. I thought about how medicore I've become. Not just as a writer but as a human being. I've failed as everything I've wanted to become and I've done nothing of what I wanted to do. I have no edge or skill anymore... I second guess when I should know for certain; I hesitate when I should act. I act when the best course of action is to stay. My internal compass is massively off.

I haven't faced my pain, my hurt and my anger. I advise others to face their problems but I myself do nothing. I'm still frozen up in my pain and hurt. I've dealt with the problems of my mind... and of the ailing spirit. But my emotional health is still dangerously poor. I'm strong now. Strong enough to do this. These are all people who have hurt me and I still carry that hurt.

James Rands. You were a terrible father and the childhood I lost because of you is something I can never get back. Love does not excuse hurting someone. I never hated you but I would've been within bounds if I had. You could not control me or break me, I am what I am and I will not be ashamed of it.

Jenni. I gave you my heart and you smahed it without a second thought. Whatever ill will I have given you is well deserved. When I needed you most you found the arms of another. Your terrible crimes didn't stop with me and sadden and hurt me deeply to think about even now. What you are now is not something I can never love: a selfish creature. You don't merit my hate. Your future is one I should pity.

Holly Blackham. You hurt me out of ignorance, not out of malice or spite. To protect yourself and I can't find qualm with that. Had you known how much a word from a friend would've lit up my life I think you would've talked to me more.

Xerath. Your an ass and a tyrant. I didn't stab you in the back; I came right for your throat. And I told you I was coming you son of a bitch. I only regret that I couldn't have been the one to push you off your throne you pompus bully.

My 5th grade teacher. Most teachers encourage their students hobbies and interests. When you told me my writing sucked and I had no hope of publishing it... I tore all 340 pages of that novel to pieces and didn't pick up a pen for years after that. Had I not been a child I would've understood the envy and frustration you felt and let it slide. But I was a child and your words cut me deeply. Even now I am secretive about anything I have written... paranoid even.

Holley Gulso. Perhaps the person who knows me best. The person who knows my mind and heart, every weakness and certainly every secret. My anger at you has an unfathomable quality: No direction. For years I have felt oppressed by my feelings for you.. both as friend and more. You did nothing wrong yet the endless frustration I feel comes from something. Your evasive about your feelings. Emotionally you are like a proverbial black hole eating away at all the matter in my life. Yet I could never hate you, I could never be angry at you for long, I could never attack you or confront you. It angers me that something like this floats in the air. That you hide everything in your air of normality.

Thats the top of a pretty short list. The people I have been closest to have been the ones to hurt and anger me most.
Even as I type this. And remember this pain. It still doesn't burn hot in my belly. It feels unnatural and wrong. I want to be angry. When I was angry I could say I felt alive and filled with passion... filled with something that isn't cold and lonely. My mind is healing, my body is healing and my spirit is healing.
So why does this one aspect of my life defy healing? Perhaps the isolation and reflection that brought the repair of my mind has damaged my emotional health further... perhaps it is because I haven't told people how I feel. I haven't talked to them honestly and I haven't faced my emotional pain in a serious matter.

The next step is to free myself of all that binds me. I have to be free to find the truth and ultimately so that I can be happy and angry again. Because without that anger I don't ever feel calm or relaxed. It has to be released.