The following post was written in the early morning following a horrid nights dream. As with most of my recent personal mental health related posts, this post was written in the moment and that moment was about one week ago.
I think having some time to detach from the rawness of some of these posts allows me the opportunity to be honest, while also being happy and safe with what I share.
What a dream. I’ve awoken angry, which is a drop down from the furious boiling rage I felt in my dream.
Dreams are weird aren’t they? At least mine feel like they are. Sometimes they are so abstract it’s hard to believe they have any link to the waking world. Then others, others feel like a memory of yesterday or an insight into tomorrow.
This dream was a combination of real and fictitious. Like a movie that says it’s ‘based on true events’, then has scenes which have been totally made up. There were elements of the real.
The anger I felt, it was red, it hurt, it annoyed, it frustrated, it even annoyed me.
I’ve mostly through I was good with anger, in that I don’t really ever show it. But in this dream the rage pored out of me. Vicious words, were loudly shouted, I put down the efforts of those trying to support me for their lack of actual support, for acting against me, for doing something that was in my eyes meant to seem like support without actually being support. In my eyes they acted against me.
Looking back at that dream I think, I know, I was way more angry at those attempting to help for their ineffectiveness, than for the original thing that happened.
Anger is something I think I probably don’t process correctly, or rather in the best. I think there’s a strong possibility that I often disassociate from my anger. I leave it in the corner, hoping it will leave the party before I want to go to that part of the room again.
I guess the problem becomes most notable when you keep doing that and you’ve got half a room at your party you’re trying to avoid. Where do you go from there?
Maybe some of that anger is residual, maybe some of it is because of scars I hide from view. Maybe it will be there forever, how do you know if it’s background memories in the wind, or if someone’s sat at your table and you need to talk to them?
I think, I’ve believed I respected and managed anger, when actually I’ve been scared of it. I’ve been so angry, so violently angry that I have tried to protect others from my thoughts. I’ve not wanted to hurt them or show a perceived weakness of my lack of control, or show they have that power and influence over me. So I hid that reaction in the corner and continued.
Maybe sometimes that’s the best thing to do. I mean I guess I must think that because that’s what I do. I very rarely tell someone when they annoy or frustrate me or if I am finding something difficult. But it does happen sometimes.
There has to be a better way to process anger. There must be a way to get through that process so it’s done. To acknowledge it and move on...
Is that it, do I not currently acknowledge it?
If I spoke to the emotion I’d banished to the corner of the room. Could it then leave the party?
I often have these moments of thought just before sleeping and/ or when I wake up, and I’ve gotten worse at writing them down. But I’m glad I took the time today (last week). Already I can feel an element of that emotional awakening leaving my body. The sweet release of writing and expressing.
Maybe, likely, definitely, there are things I still need to work on; and I’m ok with that. I think sometimes you need to be in a certain place to do/ think/ process/ take action on some things. Maybe I’m nearing the time when I’m ready to talk about something new. Maybe I’m nearly ready to introduce you to my party guest. We will see. First I need to reintroduce myself to them.