
Ask me a few years back,
What anger? I’d say.
Good girls aren’t angry and I’m a good girl.
Angry? Me?
No that’s not allowed, not ladylike,
wrong. I’m not allowed
anger, not me.
I know I was taught it in childhood,
from then.
My parents know best – no anger in me.
In them?
Oh yes, every day – some rage,
or irritation that grows into a tornado –
a punch, a push, a scream, a yell.
See another reason I can’t do it –
It’s dangerous you see,
A black eye, slammed door
A giant dark red cloud gathering
and maybe so angry
she tries to die.
No, this anger is dangerous,
too dangerous for me.
I can still hear her screaming from the other room
Calling my name.
I trembled and pleased,
tried to pacify and calm.
I can’t add my anger to this crazy storm.
Children can be seen, but not heard.
So no I’m not angry,
angry I’m not.
Stop asking me, I say with a smile.
Stop asking me, stop!
There it is you’ve done it! You’ve burst my dam.
You told me I allowed to feel it.
I keep fighting it until I can’t anymore.
I like pretending I didn’t have it to the rest of the world,
because then I felt stronger,
invincible, justified and not weak.
If I don’t hold it in then who will I be?
A target again for all of those lies,
the shoving and pushing
and putting me down.
If I don’t hold it in,
seething only inside
I’ll feel vunerable, fragile
and terribly afraid.
Then the fear brings up the tightness in my chest
that is full of the tears
I’m scared to feel.
Stop telling please it’s okay to feel.
I need to hold on, please I want to keep it in.
But it’s wrong?
You’re telling me its wrong –
it’s hurting myself and others, you say.
Like invisible darts its flying their way?
Feel it, you keep saying.
I’m losing my fight.
It really does hurt, this anger
inside – a deep knotted ball,
on fire in me.
Burning up my soul.
What am I angry about?
Let me see…
I’M ANGRY ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED TO ME!
I’M ANGRY THEY HURT ME, SHAMED ME
FOR BEING ME.
ONLY WANTED THE VERSION THEY WANTED TO SEE.
I’M FUCKING PISSED OFF
THAT THEY DIDN’T WANT ME.
JUST CRITICISED, PICKED AT, JUDGED
AND MADE TO FEEL BAD
JUST FOR BREATHING,
MOVING, CRYING, DREAMING.
I’M ANGRY THAT HER INCESTOUS LOVE
TORE AT MY SOUL AND RIPPED IT TO SHREDS.
I’M PISSED THAT IT INFILTRATED ME,
SUCKED MY LIFE
AND TURNED ME INTO HER SLAVE.
I’M ANGRY WE MOVED AND MOVED AND MOVED
AGAIN.
NO CHANCE FOR FRIENDS,
CONNECTIONS OR SECURITY.
THAT LED TO HUGE SOCIAL ANXIETY.
I’M ANGRY I LIVE JUMPING AT EVERY SOUND
AND MY LOW SELF WORTH
TOOK ME TO SEEK ‘LOVE’ IN ALL THE DARK PLACES
WHERE SHAME DROWNED ME OUT
AND SUNK ME DEEP.
I’M ANGRY IT TOOK TO BE A VAGINA AND TITS
A PERFORMING MONKEY
JUST FOR YOUR PLEASURE
AND YOU TOOK WHAT YOU WANTED,
SPIKED MY DRINK.
A HOLE JUST TO FUCK – NO LOVE.
I’M ANGRY I COMPROMISED MYSELF
THAT I DIDN’T SEE SOONER,
WHAT I NEEDED TO SEE.
I’M ANGRY AT EVERYONE WHO DIDN’T SEE ME,
JUST WHAT THEY COULD GET
AND ANGRY I GAVE IT JUST FOR APPROVAL
AND SAFETY.
I’M ANGRY THAT GOD NEVER ANSWERED MY CALL
OR SO IT SEEMED THAT WAY
THEN REMEMBER IT WAS YOU
WHO LEFT ME, I WAS ALWAYS ALONE
IN THE FAMILY – WE WERE NOT
JUST A CULT, YOUR RULES ONLY –
YOUR NEEDS FIRST.
MADE TO FEEL GUILTY, BEHOLDEN
JUST FOR BEING BORN.
WHY DID YOU HAVE ME? IF I WAS JUST IN THE WAY,
NOT GOOD ENOUGH, TOO SENSITIVE –
JUST NOT FOR YOU.
IF YOU HATED ME SO WHY DO YOU PRETEND?
I’M ANGRY, SO ANGRY
SEE I’M LETTING IT OUT…
Then finding out…
underneath
I’m so, so sad.
by Maxine February 2021
Facing the truth about our parents is one of the places we find the most difficult and are very resistive to feel about. I have struggled for years. I have acknowledged some things, but emotionally just not been to feel the truth. This unwillingness to not feel creates multi-generational pain…my mother hurt me because she hadn’t felt her own pain, as her mother did to her and so on and what I have also done to my children – my own suppression, shame and fear of emotion damaged them hugely. It is a sad cycle that needs breaking. Jesus told me in 2019 that I need to feel my anger to get below to my grief. It’s taken me this long to even start and it is actually proving a huge relief. It’s still not easy, because of all the false beliefs I had about feeling anger and the desire to feel powerful and not fragile as I really felt. But, God made us to feel. God made me to feel. It’s where we come alive and connect to our soul and really quite beautiful. I long for the day when I surrender to my emotions every day, every moment.
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