A strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility
Fill (someone) with anger; provoke anger in.
Anger. An emotion that jars ever so strongly in my head and heart. A feeling that I have held deep inside me for the most of my life, scared of the wrath and aftermath if released. It has been since having my operation and awaiting the last results from my bloods and cervix that the anger inside me has raised it’s little head ever so slightly and at points rather strongly. I can’t excuse the fact that it’s made me into some venomous female at times. I have indeed vented at the poor soul that has taken me into his home whilst I recover and to help me to get away. I have vented and ‘popped’ at times when the anger has pushed through and in my hated mind not been able to stop it from seeping out.
I am blessed. This human, as the other few who are close enough to me to understand my life – the past and what I have been through; the process of recovery and just how hard it is mentally, understands and allows it. I speak to my therapist and there are many tears that flow and roll down my cheeks as she tells me that everything I am feeling is okay. I explain that my eating disorder head is trying to push through the more I try to fight this horrible sense of anger that creeps out so very strongly and she, this wonderful lady…a beautiful example of someone who is exceptional at their job reminds me that ‘it’s okay.’ I am ‘okay’ and not ‘mental’ like I describe. That this….the writing, the reflection and the ability to be so aware of how I am feeling is brilliant and perfectly ‘okay’. That I should just ‘allow myself to feel’, ‘allow myself to be’ and ‘sit with it.’
I can’t say that it’s easy. I am struggling daily at the minute and to different extremes in a pattern of ups and downs. I struggle to sit in one place and also in an area that I don’t know all to well and there are symptoms as part of the physical recovery combined with the unknown of waiting for my cancer markers and results coming back that fills my mind with nothing less than the black mist and haze that feels ever so heavy and scary. I didn’t realise that recovery was going to be this hard. I didn’t realise that this part was going to bring back old mental battles; naively imagining that once it was all physically out and over, then these might disappear as well. Don’t get me wrong, these dips in my mood have become less. I know it has been longer in between the last one and now and also that my ability to deal with them is getting better. However, this time I’m struggling. I know I have been through a bunch of ‘trouble’ and ‘major events’ more recently as some say that will be contributing to my mind being so unsettled and irrational. I know that this will pass. I know that I will feel better. I know that the two year anniversary of the rape is next week and it’s on my mind. That the results will more than likely come at the same time and that also, I am allowed to feel all these things in both positive and negative correlation. I keep on keeping on. I have to. I need to. I do not know if this will get easier. I do not know if my mind with become more settled or whether it will stay like it is now or change daily and eventually ease off. All of it….the unknown. I try to allow myself to be…to feel and try not to punish myself for doing so. I talk…I keep communicating to the soul living in such close proximity and I breathe. I breathe, I keep mindful and I allow myself to simply feel. I remind myself that feeling IS okay. Recovery is indeed a process but that it is….more than anything, possible and that I will, eventually get there!