Content warning: I’m angry. If anger scares you or upsets you, you might want to back away and come back another day.
I. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging like I did in my last post, but I needed to spend some time with my own thoughts and feels about whatever the heck was going on with me in response to the sudden lack of boozy buffer. Boredom was *not* something I expected to experience in response to going clear, but that’s what came up. Boredom. An intense awareness of the “rinse, repeat” quality of this moment in time. A hankering for something – a craving, really. But not for wine. Not for any kind of altered state, actually, unless you can call “engaged” or “connected” an altered state.
II. It took a while, but here I am. Engaged. Connected. Into everything. Curious. Open. Awake. Alive. Alcohol-Free for 60 days, too, which feels like a bit of a minor miracle given *waves at all of this*, but here we are.
Here comes the anger in t-minus 3….2……1…..
III. A lot happened around and to me over the course of the last almost two years, and most of it was no bueno. I *did* manage to navigate it and I *have* gotten over most of it if by “gotten over it” we mean “I have raged and cried and grieved and pondered myself into a puddle of spent and also receptive goo”.
The thing I most grappled with was the idea that bad things happen to bad people and if bad things are happening to me, I must therefore be bad. This is not an uncommon bit of unconscious content, I know. I am not alone in grappling with this. Even though I am potently and poignantly aware of how the overculture conditions us to believe that we are, in fact, completely in control of what happens to us what with the way it pushes The Law of Attraction and the whole “thoughts become things” thing that gets shoved down our throats on the regular, my newfound sobriety uncovered a stinking pile of this conditioning hiding out in my deepest innards. I had, thankfully, disconnected from most of the purveyors of this kind of horseshit by the time I uncovered it within myself, but there were some holdovers. Some second-guessing. Some doubts about my choices. Some guilt about the INFJ door slam that I have been unashamedly employing thanks to an ever-increasing sense of self-loyalty.
IV. My therapist and I have talked about the same relationships for years. They came up in every session. It felt very much like my own personal soap opera. “This week on as Effy’s World Turns.” The one that did the very thing I asked her not to do and then kept doing it, but in secret. The one that made sure I knew about what was happening in secret because they got off on my upset over it. The one that took full advantage of my fawn trauma response and “The Bank of Effy” while talking shit about me to anyone who would listen. The one who would pick me up and then shelve me like I was some kind of doll. The one who enjoyed the lavish, devoted experience I offer my lovers, but did not offer much of anything in return except a wicked case of cognitive dissonance, broken promises, and words that did not align with actions. The one that told me my son was sick because KARMA – that I’d allowed him to be abused in a past life in order to keep a husband happy. The same one that told me that if I broke up with a guy that was causing me real harm, I was doomed to be in pain for the rest of my life because TWIN FLAMES. The same one who acted like she didn’t like me (or anyone else, frankly) very much, but kept me around because – why? I made her feel better about herself?
Who knows.
Humans baffle me.
And that’s just in the last two years.
And so, fuck them. Fuck all of them.
And since I know how humans work, and since I know very well that at least some of them are reading this:
May you be happy. May you be healed. May you be loved.
But far from me, you fucking dumpster fire.
Fuck you.
V. Do I sound like a victim?
Maybe I do, but I’m okay with that because while the overculture wants us all to shut up about it and put on our positive panties and accept that if these bad things happen to us it’s OUR FAULT and we are ENTIRELY TO BLAME and COMPLETELY IN CONTROL of everything that goes wrong while encouraging us to GUSH ABOUT HOW BLESSED AND GRATEFUL WE ARE when things go right, something inside of me – something that’s been sitting in weekly therapy for almost nine years now is ready to fight the overculture on that.
When did “victim” become a dirty word? When did we equate saying what happened to us with “playing the victim card”? When did pretending we’re untouchable, unflappable, indomitable, bulletproof, beyond being harmed become the requirement for being acceptable?
VI. I’ve been harmed, and the sole responsibility for healing that harm is on me, I know, but I am *pissed off* that so much of my psychic energy has to be spent in healing wounds that I *did not inflict upon myself*.
Y’all, I am in therapy *because of people who refuse to go to therapy*. I’m in therapy because of my encounters with those who will not touch their own unconscious content with a ten-foot pole, but instead, project it all onto the nearest available scapegoat, and how did I become the nearest available scapegoat?
I was raised to be one.
And I’m fucking angry over it.
And you know what?
It’s about fucking time.
VII. I live in a world where *waves at all of the above* is completely unacceptable. I am supposed to show up in the world with a smile and a twinkle in my eye and paint under my nails and delight and joy and inspiration and gratitude. I am supposed to take the hits as they keep on coming and assert that it’s all okay because “HURT PEOPLE HURT PEOPLE” with a forgiving, tender smile on my unphased face. I’m supposed to forgive. I’m supposed to keep my dirty laundry to myself and I’m supposed to be professional and polished and I’m supposed to whitewash everything and I’m supposed to make sure that I do not get my stuff all over everybody else *at all costs* including my own survival.
Right? I mean, isn’t that what we’re told to do? Isn’t that what’s modeled for us? Don’t we get labeled “too much” if we do otherwise?
I mean, for fuck sakes, even the Dalai Lama is out there telling everyone that anger is poison, and when a very wise council of humans suggested to him that this might be a spiritual bypass (because it *was* a spiritual bypass) he didn’t address it. He just left his toxic positivity hang out there for all to see without any accountability to anyone for how poisonous *repressed & denied* anger is when expressed anger is actually *healthy and human and necessary*.
VIII. One of the people I mentioned above told me that I was scary because I get angry, and it was at that point in our relationship that I should have ended it, because I *do* get angry. I get angry when I’m lied to. I get angry when I am betrayed. I get angry about injustice, betrayal, disloyalty, passive aggression, malice, other people’s projections, and other forms of fuckery. And I have learned to say “I’m angry”. I’ve learned to say “Don’t do that to me.” or “This is my boundary” or “What you are offering me in this moment is not what I need.” and the people who can’t handle that, who think that makes me “scary” or “too much” are, frankly, not enough for me.
I wish those people all the luck in finding someone who is less.
Because I’m not it.
I’m all of me.
Angry me included.
IX. And it’s not like I get angry over stupid shit, because I don’t. In fact, it’s been brought to my attention by qualified professionals that I don’t get angry *enough*. I have to go through a lot of inner work before the anger even begins to arise. I have to sift and sort and tell the story to a willing, objective ear over and over again for a long time, to get the experience witnessed by someone who can be *angry on my behalf* before I can even begin to access my own anger.
So if I’ve told you I’m angry?
You can bet I worked to get there, and that I value you enough to tell you, and that it comes at an enormous personal energetic cost to me to tell you in the first place, so if you reject me or criticize me for being angry? If my anger is too much for you? If your response to my anger is to talk shit about me or abandon me?
Fuck you.
And if I’ve slammed the door on our relationship, it’s because I told you until I was blue in the face what I needed from you and what my boundaries were and you didn’t listen or didn’t care, so again.
Fuck you.
X. Sixty days today, and I’m fucking angry, and I am glorying in it because I have every reason and right to be angry, and my rage, which hid out under a blanket of booze for a decade, has risen up. It is here. It is honest. It is holy, and if you can’t sit with me in my anger, you don’t fucking deserve me.
Photo of a very angry kitteh for tax.
“The people who can’t handle that, who think that makes me “scary” or “too much” are, frankly, not enough for me.
I wish those people all the luck in finding someone who is less.
Because I’m not it.
I’m all of me.
Angry me included.”
Holy fuck I love you. Thank you for feeling this, recognizing it and sharing it. It makes me feel so much less alone, because I am also frequently “scary” and “too much”.
Big big love.
We’re only scary and too much for the wrong people, love. <3 We're just right with all our parts intact for the right ones.
I don’t think you’re scary. I adore all parts of you. And we all have the right to be pissed off when our trust and/or love is messed with.
I adore all parts of you, tooooo. Except the parts that keep getting pneumonia! Pretty mad at those parts. <3 Sending love.
I dont see any replies here so maybe anger does scare some. You don’t scare me anger doesn’t scare me . I don’t talk shit about you and I don’t try to tell you how to feel or how to react to your life. I will try to pat uou on your back and say “atta gal..good work on your 60 days!” I do believe what you’ve accomplished is work and not easy, but a choice you made and followed through with!! I like your frankness..your truthfulness and your style of art and giving all the ability to do the same by either copying or not to copy. I enjoy your writings if I agree or don’t care for the topic. I try not to offer my opinions as they are exactly that..mine..not yours. Right now I’m sad..in mourning. My so special mate of over 30 years died in December. I wish every woman could have a husband as loving & generous as mine was. He was 89 and I was with him in our home our bed as he gave his last breath due to COPD. I took care of his cleanliness before calling for support. I, too was angry but also relieved he was at peace. Now I wonder am I worthy to still be here…who am I now? Am ready to head back to my studio to see if my answer will be there. I love you Effy you’ve been my support since January 2020 and together with others we will find our way forward. Hugs! Carolyn
I think you were writing while others were also writing, since there were definitely replies above yours. <3 Thank you for sharing where you're at. <3
Effy, anger does not scare me, although there are those that it does scare. You have made a choice and followed through with it and I admire that. Your art style is something that I enjoy. I may not agree with some of your writings, but I like your frankness and I am glad that you are willing to share. I have had a life that has been good and bad. I am kept ever guessing what new twist or turn will come along! I continuously live on through life and try to fill my days to the fullest. I have not contributed to your posts often. My life as a family caregiver has left me very little time including the time I have craved to do art work! Please know that I listen with an open ear and heart to all that you write and talk about. You have supported me through some crushingly painful days with your frankness and your love. I listen, I do. Thank you and hugs! Carolyn B
Thank you for listening. <3
It’s funny no one talks about this -but anger — it’s powerful. I figured out a while ago – I could be sad about something or I could be anger. Sad made me feel weak, anger made me feel like a bad ass bitch. I suppose that sounds like I walk around like a raging tornado -but really I don’t. Being any one emotion ALL the time isn’t really a realistic expectation (especially if that’s happy). I’m still sad when needed, but sometimes I’m angry. When I’m need that strength, I’m angry. When there is injustice, I’m angry. I don’t know why we tell people -but especially female identifying people -that we should be happy or maybe sad (in a small, pretty way) but never, ever angry. We have a range of emotions for a reason. We are supposed to be able to feel all those things.
I’ve done the dance with anger and sadness, too, and they’re both necessary BUT sometimes I let the sadness go on way longer than I should for fear of the anger, and that’s what I’m ready to shift.
This. All this. Fuck the LOA bull shit. Being a good person and expecting bad things won’t happen is like being a vegan and expecting a hungry cheetah won’t gobble you because you love animals sooooo much. Victim means a shitty thing happened to you that was not of your doing. It’s not a flaw or shortcoming or failure; it’s a single word descriptive to sum up a long sentence of shitty things happen to people that are out of their control. I don’t get the overculture obsession with avoiding it other than it reflects how utterly fragile and out of our control much of life can be, especially when it comes with human to human stuff, and especially if you are a woman and expected to “play nice, don’t rock the boat,” and that vulnerability of existing in a meat suit scares the holy shit out of people… if a natural disaster gets you, it’s a little more acceptable cuz ya’ know people can’t control earthquakes, but another human gets ya’, well that’s a wicked net to get tangled in all the nuances of the indirect messages we get indoctrinated in; frog in a pot till you boil over, then hot frog hoppin’ all over the kitchen. Be angry. Throw rocks. All the feels have a reason for being part of the experience of being human and they didn’t come to exist in our biology “just because” and to then be “should-ed” into being deemed “bad” because some people can’t handle the truth of their feels of discomfort around other beings’ discomfort, but expect other humans to manage their experiences for them. Thank you for giving voice to all this.
I know you’d be on board with this :) Love you. <3
I love you and I got you. 60 day AF twins.
Love you and I’ve got you tooooooooo!
I love you, Effy.
I love you, too. <3
This has been a long time coming. Good…it’s here. Bout time. You’re pissed and it sounds like you have every right to be. Keep toxic people at arms length….that will be to your advantage. F*ck them!
Let me just say that I’m not a faithful reader, and I’ve got my own crap to deal with. But! Let me just say this…..”Bad things happen to good people” I take comfort in letting karma come around to those jerks who do us wrong. I’m pretty sure you’re “good people”, Effy…be kind to yourself. Sounds like you’re happy with yourself for not consuming alcohol….good for you. Carry on….Wishing you well.
“Good…it’s here. Bout time.” Yessssssssss. <3
I’m feeling very angry myself right now. My stepdaughter is quite good at projecting her bullshit on others, others is usually me. I’m so tired of her shit and for once her dad is seeing the light and not falling for her shit. She’s using her new baby like a pawn for her games and it’s sickening. I just want to completely distance myself from her and her negative energy. I’m thankful she lives an hour away now. That lessens the amount of time she’ll be around in the foreseeable future. So, right now, I can totally relate to how you’re feeling because I’m feeling it, too. Fuck her! Fuck her projecting her shit all over me because I’ve reached my fuckable limit!
I feel you. <3
How do i love thee, let me count the ways.
You are such an inspiration.
Gratefully received, added to, and sent back. <3