Ah anger – you know what? You’re a big fat SOB and I hate you. You show up uninvited and without any warning. And there you are swelling up inside me – burning my inner core – having your way with my thoughts and too quickly my tongue. I cower in your presence and become jelly to your strength – your piercing pointedness – your obstinence – your thick hard headedness. You totally suck. And I own you! I have to take full responsibility for YOU showing up and acting out (of me). You sick and twisted thing.
Do you really come to protect me? Do you, Anger? Really? I don’t think so. Not at all. Seems like all you ever do is start trouble and create a mess. You never clean up the mess you make, by the way. Never. You leave that to the other parts of me who behave from a place of deep shame and remorse for the tantrums you throw. The poison you spew. The delicate pieces you tear apart in others. The harmony and peace you ruin that existed moments before.
I am really, really, really sooooo tired of you and the damage you do.
Oh wait!! You – anger – ARE me. You come from me. I created you and keep you alive by feeding you. You’re the unhealthy side of myself that I have to make excuses for and the side of myself I get to feel bad about, because you and I are one. We are a toxic couple.
That’s just great. Lucky me!
This ugly part of me / this emotion / this entity / this feeling is ME.
They (whoever they are) say you have to make friends with the dark parts of yourself. Maybe this concept is the gospel truth, but all I want to do is kick anger’s butt. I’m fed up with this wolf in sheep’s clothing. I am really tired of letting something so negative come out of me and ruin things that are inherently GOOD.
I’m angry about the anger that exists in me. How ironic.