Permission to Rage
uncensored rage from the traumatized inner child
This is RED HOT FUCKING RAGE. Sewage no longer being capable of being shoved down. This will NOT be a seamless rant as my brain and nervous system are on fire. They can’t settle down, I’ve taken benzos, marijuana and chain smoked for hours. Perhaps spewing this shit on paper will help.
I don’t know exactly where it’s coming from and I guess it doesn’t really fucking matter. It’s just there. This rage is turned at myself 99% of the time but tonight, I’m entertaining the sweet revenge of homicide. Thing is, I don’t have anyone in particular that I want to murder, I just want to hurt someone. Not something, someone. My dogs are completely safe, it’s a contained rage that is aimed at a human, probably the perpetrators that stole my childhood. But the fuckers are all dead and throwing shit at their headstones just doesn’t cut it. I want revenge. I want to hurt them and think that’s the only thing that will satisfy my thirst for bloody revenge. I want to do to them what they did to me. I want to whip them bloody then tie them to a bedpost with the same belt around their neck. I want them to know the agony of having to choose between struggling away from their sweaty forceful hands at the risk of cinching the belt tighter around my neck. I want them to know what it’s like to make the decision to fight until I’m rendered unconscious. I want them to scream in agony like I did when they rammed their penises into me and ripped by genitals apart. I want to stand there unflinching with lifeless eyes like they did to me and not give one fuck about their agony. I want them to know what it’s like to be discarded afterward in a dark room, curled in a fetal position, bleeding from places that a 5-year old didn’t even know she had. I want them to know what it’s like to have your brain split into a million pieces not knowing if it will ever come back together. I want them to know what their future looks like with this searing trauma burning trenches into their brains like it did with my little girl developing brain. I want them to know that the experience will lock itself in the darkest recesses of your soul and you will go most of your life wondering what the hell is wrong with you. I want them to experience the self that is indelibly and completely altered because of these vile actions. I want them to endure life with demons lurking in every corner waiting to fuck up your relationships, waiting to crawl into your sleep so you are never rested, to fuck up your ability to function like a decent person, your ability to have any fucking moment of peace and safety in your whole fucking life.
Dr. Gabor Mate prompted this.
His poignant and heart wrenching story of being an infant as his family was captured and taken to Nazi concentration camps during World War II triggered the shit out of me. This man understands trauma wholly and viscerally. Dr. Mate has lived trauma and walked its perilous path, therefore, making him a person worth paying attention to.
I watched Tim Ferriss‘ podcast with Dr. Mate on YouTube tonight and was blown away when he spoke of his rage. He owned it. He related it as a complex companion linked to many issues with his relationships, his career and his inner self. That just sparked me. If someone as freaking brilliant as Dr. Gabor Mate has grappled with episodes of rage, then isn’t it available to all of us who have suffered this type of horror? Perhaps this is a given but the only rage I witnessed during my life was by the ignorant and unaware. But this was a complete antithesis to my previous thinking. Rage was being acknowledged, with great introspection and compassion, as a normal response to trauma by one of the most brilliant and insightful minds of the century. This WOW moment gave me the permission I needed to release the atrocities of 6 decades of rage and fury.
With the absolute mind control of my abusers, I was silenced. Instead of flat out telling their monstrous secrets, I allowed myself only to speak through unconscious innuendo, the more “palatable” kinds of acting out; sadness, depression, anxiety, acquiescing, sexual compliance, bitterness and mild anger. But I’ve never allowed myself permission for a consistent, full on rage, at least not on a basis where I honor it as it truly rises up. I have an arsenal of numbing agents which I use regularly so as not to feel.
I think it’s time to change that shit.
