The Rage Cage

I am trapped in the Rage Cage. I want to let go of all of my anger, but I just do not seem to be able to do this…yet. I feel my body, mind and soul overflowing with rage. Rage at The Bean for all the unanswered questions and betrayal. Rage at work for trying so hard, and rage because I leave feeling overwhelmed, overworked and angry. Rage at striving so diligently to heal the past because sometimes feel I got to the party too late…what is it all worth? Rage at not being paid a living wage. Rage at myself for feeling entitled even when I know better. Rage at Mother for putting even more pressure on me right when I need her to just swoop in and help me out, again. Rage at needing help at all; rage at needing help right now. Rage at my body for falling down before I could heal my heart.

I am trapped in the Rage Cage.

I will admit I once was an Oprah devotee. Certain moments stay with me. Maya Angelou saying, “You did then what you knew best to do. Now that you know better, do better.” A group of very angry lesbians talking about misogyny (an important topic that I agree with many of them on) and a woman in the audience asking, “If you hate men so much, why do you try so hard to look like them?” Damn! I just about died laughing, and to the credit of those amazing women, they did too. And then there was the time Andrew Vachss sat with Oprah for an hour talking about sexual abuse. Oprah’s public struggle to make sense of the sexual abuse in her past helped me to come out of the proverbial closet. I give her all credit for helping to debunk the stigma and for showing that women who have been raped can possess real strength and beauty.

She sat there heavily upon her chair speaking to him and not quite agreeing with him about the rage victims of sexual abuse carry with them. Andrew Vachss said, “Your anger is the weight you carry.”  She immediately understood and agreed.  Epiphany!

The light went on for me in that one sentence too.  Why am I here fifteen years later and still sorting this one out?

I had so much anger then. Anger at Daddy for dying, my sisters for leaving, my Mother for bringing John into our home, and anger at John for hurting me so profoundly my DNA altered. I write these things now and feel so little of the sting. No. The sting is not gone completely, but mostly now just makes me uncomfortable when the present reveals a place of vulnerability. So much of this anger has been released. As I spent the last few years working my ass off–literally–and saw the pounds slipping away one painful ounce at a time, I saw the anger melt and the Rage Cage lift.

I survived these last months in some part due to eating to lessen the blows to my shattered defenses. So much has happened to me this year that I find myself in a brand new Rage Cage. I keep sorting through all the reasons why I am so angry, and trying to figure out what I need to do to let go of this anger that is hurting me. I want to go back to the place where I feel free and strong, not where I eat to stuff down my rage at my circumstances and failed or flawed relationships. Now do not misunderstand, I believe anger is an important and healthy response…to begin with. I also know at some point we all must let go because the anger only destroys us like an insidious cancer. I can feel it eating away at my optimism, my spunk, my trust, and my openness.

Ultimately, I want my anger to morph into a fuel to empower me to love more, and love with a greater attention to detail. I realize this may seem strange, but “passion to love” is too similar to “passion to hate” for me to ignore anger’s power when it comes to love. Letting anger melt allows real love and intimacy to grow. I know, I have seen it happen in me before, but it seems to happen only when I let go of the past being any different. (Going back to my post on forgiveness.) Ultimately, I want it to empower me to forgive and practice grace and mercy towards myself and others. Practicing grace and mercy are key. Grace being the place where I extend unconditional favour, and mercy being the place where I extend unconditional abandonment of my expectations in the face of them not being met. I need both right now because I keep hearing myself saying–pleading really–both out loud and in my head, “I am just one person!”

As I rode my bike on Thrusday morning, I envisioned myself in the Rage Cage. I fell deep within its claustrophobic den out of all the anger I feel towards The Bean. Add to this the rage at myself for both hitting below the belt twice when he left and for not seeing it all coming down the pike, and my whole being felt oppressed. I see all the “trying” and all the ways I feel like I am failing, not just flailing about. I thought about what I needed and what I want, and I counted all the ways these go left unanswered. The bars just seemed to get stronger and press more tightly against my already ravaged body. I looked it over for a door, bars I might bend to wiggle through, a lock for a key or key for a lock…I just want a way out.

I do not possess the needed tools to just “poof” myself out of the Rage Cage. No fairy dust. No magic wand. I did, however, find rather unexpectedly a tear-filled conversation, with a small epiphany, helped alleviate my shrinking prison bars. My epiphany? Letting go of The Bean being wrong feels like letting go of my being wronged. Just admitting this all too human fact allowed grace and mercy to find me for a bit and for them to apply their tender balms of understanding and acceptance.

I cannot help wondering how much longer this will all take, but I also know that when I am no longer hurting to the point food makes it all feel better the Rage Cage will be lifting off of me.