Tag: anger

LOST MY MIND

by Maasaisis

I write to disperse the overwhelming pressure of indignation welling up inside me. If I don’t do something, I will implode. The rage rumbles from deep within, rising to the surface, and I can’t decide if I need to break something, cry, or scream. My hands were painting a facade over my inner turmoil with bright, happy flowers. Disgusted by the colourful lie, I left my studio before I tore into the canvas.

I feel utterly defeated by the savage return of this stabbing pain. I clutch my elbow to my chest, hoping to still the sharp intensity. Grace and wisdom have abandoned me. I want to smash something into a million pieces, but not with innocent bystanders close by.

My right breast is an angry tight fist, made up of clusters of defiant cells. It’s pulling outward, breaching the surface and spewing blood. I want to rip it out of me, but I’m stuck with it, everywhere and all the time. This unsightly disfigurement is a constant reminder of what I’m up against, demanding meticulous care that I’m forced to provide. My life is a constant work around in attempting to tame this beast that has a mind of it’s own.

I’ve violently silenced the voice of reason that tells me to be patient, that healing can’t be rushed. I want to do something reckless, like go on a wild bender, but I have two teenage kids in the house and a husband who doesn’t deserve a crazed wife after a hard day of work.

The relentless onslaught of sleep deprivation, constant pain, unyielding self-care demands, and the fiery storm of hormonal chaos has pushed me over the edge into darkness. It all began with the realization that I won’t be able to swim in the lake to soothe the summer heat with my open wound—another joy stolen by this disease. I’m utterly fed up. My mind is a minefield, and I’m stepping on every single one, triggering explosions of what I thought I’d overcome.

Why is this happening? What did I do to deserve this? Will I ever heal? The questions I thought I’d extinguished now ring in my ears. It’s an off day, to say the least. I’m blaming it on the drugs because I need something to blame. I’m granting myself this beautiful, sunny summer day to raise my fists defiantly to the open sky.

In the midst of my calamity, I want to push everyone and everything away. I don’t want to be seen caught in the trap of this disease. Love can’t reach me when I’m lost in the dark. I isolate so I won’t pull the ones I love into the abyss of self pity. It’s a relentless cycle of despair, anger, helplessness, and guilt for feeling this way. I’m ensnared by every obstacle that obstructs love’s path.

I know I need to come up for air and that means I need sleep. I disown my pride and falter back to the morphine so I can numb myself and escape. I granted myself this mercy in hopes of a better tomorrow.

There are days when I lose my grip on what I thought I’d learned, and suddenly, it all seems meaningless. Suffering has a deafening voice, often drowning out the whispers of wisdom, love, and gratitude. Sometimes, I simply need to splatter and spew, raging against my tormentor. It’s not elegant, but it’s a release nonetheless—a raw expression of humanity.

It encapsulates the perfect imperfection of our existence—the beauty, the joys, the despair, the hopelessness—all intertwined with the uncertainty of why we are here and where we are headed.

LESSON: SOMETIMES WE JUST NEED TO SPEW THE UGLY.

I Feel Therefore I Am

by Maasaisis

I stood in the forest clearing and screamed into battle. Gripping my invisible Samurai sword I slashed viciously with tears blinding my swollen eyes. The primordial, shrilling, shriek awakened the beast that lay dormant inside.

That morning, I faltered. I did what I had consciously avoided the previous times I had the bout with my eyes. In Google’s search engine I wrote- Breast Cancer/ Eyes. My heart seized as pages linked to Ocular Metastasis. It was as if I stood in the middle of a frozen lake- terrified by the sound of ice snapping. The resounding chorus of cracking threatened the very structure of what held me up. My entire approach to healing came apart at the seams.

My 5th round with Rocky Balboa Eyes was by far the worst. I called them so, because I looked like I got my face pummeled by the Champ himself. My practice of loving myself was confronted by the grotesque face that looked back at me in the mirror. I felt defeated, exhausted, and utterly lost.

I had relentlessly dedicated myself to a deeper human experience- trusting that by doing so, I would ultimately heal. I had rigorously detoxed, renounced pleasures, fueled my body solely on live foods, resolutely practiced my healing protocols, and held fast to my spiritual rituals.

I accepted my circumstance and believed in the higher purpose of the challenges I faced. I gave way for my true self to crawl out of the shell of the old predictable self. Yet, 6 months later…I still had my lump and had potentially made my condition worse. I felt like a fool.

The beast that had leapt out of me was Anger. I didn’t even know I harbored such a gastly thing until it exploded out. The compulsion to “take the high road” was usually an automatic response. In the past, the impulse to overcome anger and convert it to something useful had been ingrained. Anger is not productive, it’s ugly- it doesn’t solve anything- it’s just a waste of energy…

My rage emerged like the Incredible Hulk. I felt robbed of my life. Everything I had endured and deprived myself of was a joke. Accepting failure after trying so hard made me livid! I wanted to freak out, go on a drinking binge, drown myself in Ecstacy- escape reality, bathe in debauchery and rebel against the unfairness of life. Is there no meaning to anything? Did I seriously just get a shitty break and this is it? Should I have submitted to being butchered? “Fuck You Universe!” that was where I was at!

Bending over, I pressed my hands into my thighs while catching my breath. Heaving from my outburst, I felt it slip away. The crazed beast subsided and in its place was emptiness. The lesson from Anger was yet another example of what was left unfelt. There is no wasted emotion- all feelings collaborate in making us human.

In “When the Body Says No: The Cost of Hidden Stress”: Gabor Mate- MD and author, reveals the common thread between chronic disease and stress. Working in palliative care, he found that there is a physiological link between the body’s systems and our coping mechanism to manage negative emotions. Life experiences from an early age condition us to suppress what we feel or to override it in order to function. By doing so, there is a ripple effect causing a biological consequence. Maintaining my composure throughout my life may have been the root cause of my undoing…

I was due to leave for Vipassana the following week. I laughed at the absurdity of voluntarily choosing to sit with myself in silence for 10 days...especially at such a time. Pandora’s box had been opened…

LESSON: FEEL WHAT IS LEFT UNFELT