Anger is a multi-faceted emotion.
So temperamental that people can’t even make up their minds on how to handle it.
An optimist would tell you to let it all out – they believe that anger can be settled and dissipated with mere talk and mediation. Sharing your feelings with someone is healthy for you, helps you get a load of your chest and keeps you from going crazy.
I’m an optimist at times.
To others, never to myself.
A pessimist – such as I am to myself – would tell you to keep shut. Lock everything up inside of you, letting it out would only hurt others. They don’t believe it can ever be solved so they just expect your anger to suffocate and die inside you. A bird slammed in a cardboard box with no holes. It’ll hammer against the edges, pleading and protesting to be set free. Finally, when it is clear that all hope is lost, it surrenders to asphyxiation and dies a quiet death.
But that’s the bird – the bird is not anger.
Anger will never submit to a passive death.
It will hammer at the box…and keep on hammering. If and when it does go silent, it is not dead. It is waiting. Lurking, prowling in the darkest depths of the soul. Feeding on pain and darkness till it has grown strong, energized on the rivers of misery and hurt that sustain it. Rabid and ravenous.
Revengeful.
What you try to suppress will not be silenced for long and one day, it will show itself.
And that’s when you find yourself going mad.
As the Cheshire Cat so aptly put it “We all go a little mad sometimes”
All it takes is a little anger to send you around the bend.
No comments:
Post a Comment