28.08.19

‘I’m sorry that you’re feeling this way. It sounds accurately painful.’

Today, for the first time I spoke about my rage. The infrequent but crazed, private moments of sheer, raw anger. I doubt I’ve even acknowledged them here, in this blog. My body tenses and shakes, I grit my teeth like an animal, my eyes narrow, I almost growl - throw things around the room, fully intent on breaking them. I swear vile words, I direct the hate towards myself, I punch myself hard, I pinch, scratch, grip, anything to make me feel pain and it releases and I start to calm. In that moment, I want to die. I no longer want to be me. I look up at the ceiling and pray for god to kill me.

Then the guilt sweeps over me and I cry, I hate myself for hurting myself, my belongings, I feel a burning sense of shame and collapse as a puddle on the ground.

I hadn’t planned on telling him any of this but I know the way I handle my anger at inanimate objects is unhealthy and it’s something I’ve wanted to get help for. Today I was running late, I’d planned on taking time to get ready in the morning but slept too long and had to cobble together all I could I and quickly made my way to the session, already pissed off but now hot, damp and wet from the rain.
Louis drew a diagram on a whiteboard and I nodded at it, knowing it summed everything up neatly but had to apologise for my lack of enthusiasm and explained that I was angry at myself and that barrier was up once again.

I felt pathetic. I still do. Talking more about it made me feel attention seeking, made me feel embarrassed as an adult, unable to convey a normal, human emotion. At the end of the session he thanked me for talking about what I did today, and that I was generally doing really well. ‘Just take each day at a time’ he smiled. He’s such a sweet man.

‘It’s clear that you’re fighting a lot of self criticism. And you can probably see it a lot here, when trying to talk about what you have.’

I explained that it was a lot easier for me to think about things I get upset by, than angry about. Over many years I’ve told myself that it’s pointless getting angry at stuff, it’s a waste of energy. I can count on my hand the number of times I’ve been angry in front of someone but would never, ever, behave the way I did last night in the presence of someone else - they’d fear I was having some sort of traumatic episode. Perhaps I was.
It is painful. Because I feel so much hate towards myself. I really want to hurt myself, in every possible way.

All I want to do, is mope and moan. I want to go home and have an enormous cry alone.
But no. Work is stressful and after work my mum and stepdad are visiting. I should look forward to seeing them but it's going to take even more energy to pretend that i'm fine.

I've also discovered that I can't afford my current flat and that I'm struggling financially. It just feels very...intense right now.