Anger Ball

I keep waiting for the nauseated twist of my anger and fear to unravel.  I keep waiting for it to subside, so that I can swallow the bile that keeps rising in my throat, so that I can smile without forethought.  So that I can laugh without then feeling guilty.  None of that has happened yet.  I have to imagine it will. 

The anger is the trickiest beast, and managing it is the worst kind of rodeo.  I need to stay on top of it, sly and cunning as it is, and I need to stay on top of it every second of every day.  Eight seconds will never be long enough to win.  It's trying to trick me into  thinking it's done, or I've broken it, only to frenetically burst into action again with no provocation.   Managing these bouts of almost paralyzing anger leave me shaking.  They leave me wanting to cry.  They leave me feeling more alone than I have ever felt in my adult life.  Because there is no one to strike out at.  Try as I might to focus on one thing, or one person to be this livid at, I can't.  Which means that I get a little mad at EVERYTHING.  All this emotional energy needs to go somewhere.  I can't keep managing this.  I can't tamp it down.  I can't contain it.  I can't.  It's stealing my ability to focus and laugh and love and just be.   I am becoming less me and more anger. 

This is upsetting as it stands.  And more so when I think about how hard I have worked to be happy.  How hard I have worked to control who I am when I am angry.  I don't want to be hurtful.  But now I do.  I don't want to tear people down or make them doubt themselves.  But now I do.  I don't want to explode and spew bile and hate.  Except that I do. 

I want to scream.  I actually want to cause another person physical harm and it doesn't even much matter who.  I want to vomit.  I want to shake and cry.  I want to sleep for a week. 

I yield.  Whatever it takes to not feel this way.  I am broken.  Please help me be whole.