Rage: Damage Control
One of the things that was the norm in my pre-diagnosis life was rage. I couldn’t think straight, I felt confused and lost and it was incredibly hard to put words in a row in a way that made sense. That’s a big reason why I’m comfier online; it gave me the ability to try to tone myself down. But try is definitely the operative word — I came off angry about pretty much everything because of the sheer force of will it took to make a semblance of sense.
This has, of course, left an indelible stain on my relationships with pretty much everyone. I know how that I came off such a terror that frankly, I can’t blame people for not wanting to interact with me. I won’t apologise either — I was doing the best I could do to get by, and it certainly wasn’t intended to be because of anyone else. I was angry at myself because nothing worked, and no matter how hard one tries to internalized the self-pummeling, it’s still going to come out side-wise. It also doesn’t help that I apparently look the furious part with I am thinking furiously, ha ha!
So then, what is one to do in the face of so many cowed or furious people? I wish I knew a trick, heh. I do my best to be as polite as I can muster (which, to be fair, I was trying to do under all the GRAWAWRR!), and do my best to note when people thank me for not stabbing them in the face. I do my best to accept I have probably damaged some relationships beyond repair, and do my best to not hold that against anyone. After all, we must all engage in the relationships which bring the most to our lives, and someone flipping out on you isn’t an ideal person to keep around. I’m grateful to the friends who understood and still understand, because that helps me analyze how I can be a better friend and a better me.
Part of who I am is the non-stop questing for self improvement. It’s served me well in helping keep me going until I was capable of finding medical help, and will continue to serve me well in trying to strike the balance between medical help, and self-help. I know the value of self-help, and I am at that stage where I accept that further medical help might enable me to make more progress on myself.
For now though, I’m just glad to take a moment to be grateful that I’m not so skin of my teeth as to be constantly angry. It’s not good for the soul, yo.
Rage. Ah, yes! She stands in my door way, peering in hoping that I will invite her in. Sometimes I let her in, and then I get so mad at myself. Yes, Rage…. Her and I have a love-hate-love relationship.
Exactly. I know how damaging letting her in is, and as tempting as it might be…