Rage Isn't All That

My pretty mouth will frame the phrases that will
Disprove your faith in man
-Fiona Apple


My dad was an abusive fucker. He didn't do anything physical or sexual. He didn't have to.  He controlled my family with his violent, explosive, unpredictable temper. As a kid, there was nothing I could do but take it. Once I got old enough for college, I got the hell out of there.

I've got anger towards my mom for not divorcing him.  He not only abused her, he abused my brother and me.  She let her children be abused.  She has her reasons.  Intellectually I understand them, but I still feel angry and sad sometimes over the fact that things were the way they were.

However, this post is not about my mom.  It is about my dad.  And for him I don't have anger.  I have rage. A white-hot rage that fills my body and creates a lust for violence.  To be clear, I've never intentionally hurt anyone and I never intend to.  I feel bad killing ants, I save dragonflies from swimming pools, I rescue dogs and I adore children. But everyone has a dark side. This is mine.

What I think I want is vengeance, pure and simple. I think I want to make him suffer like I did. I think I want him to feel my absolute power over him, to make the decision of whether or not to show him any mercy.  I think I want him to know that I have that power and beg me for forgiveness. I think I want to get all Old Testament on his ass.

(In 2005, my dad shot himself in the chest and died minutes afterward.  He punished himself far worse than I ever could.)

What I think I want and what I need are two different things. What I've been working on so hard for the past couple of years is recognizing the behaviors that helped me survive back then but that don't serve me now.  I used to get so angry and not know why. This unacknowledged rage was why, and when my emotions were so much more that what a situation actually called for, I now know this rage had been triggered.  Then I can step back. What do they say: an odd reaction is an old reaction.

(I don't get angry like that anymore except occasionally around my mother's husband Steve.  He is the perfect stand in for my dad.  I may write about this some other time.)

What the Wrath of UTP covers up is so much worse than rage, so much harder to handle, and that is grief. It's a grief so strong that if I give in to it, it will double me over. Feeling angry is so much easier than feeling sad, at least for me, and I think that's why I used to be so angry. My work now is to grieve for that little girl who grew up in a house that took her sensitive and creative nature and warped it into something ugly.

I used to think all the inner child stuff was a bunch of BS, but now I see a point to it.  I'll probably write about that some other time too.