Tag Archives: Anger

Allowed to be Angry

In full swing I have been pissed at Kylie, and rather than possibly projecting my inner child onto her, I’m not allowing guilt to conflict with my ability to utilize my anger as a tool for boundary setting. I made it absolutely clear that if she’s comfortable trashing the kitchen floor so everyone has to jump over the trash spewing out of the bin because it’s not Sunday night, then from now on she has no problem committing to cleaning the bathroom on certain days since she’s been exploiting and taking advantage of me for months by not lifting a finger and doing shit. 


Because Ben was in on this conversation, he at least came downstairs and threw out what was on the floor, and agreed to wipe down counter tops, sweep floors, and will bring the trash out whatever day Kylie is not doing it and needs to be done, but he’s going in for spinal tap surgery today and will be gone for a week. 

Thankfully Alex and Destiny have been helping me through this, and agree her level of immaturity is through the roof. Last I knew destiny and Kylie were still friends since we all worked at great bay, but twice in a row that destiny was at my house, Kylie ignored her. Destiny was unloading all the racism she and her boyfriend have to deal with since trump was elected, and to be treated with such disrespect was awful! She pried to pass it off as “I’m too old for this drama”, but it lingered 24 hours later. My guess is Kylie insisted on picking sides between Sarah P, and Destiny rather than allowing their conflict to be their own, and picked sides. They were still friends when Kylie and I were friends, and destiny has a conversation from a few months ago and everything was fine. I don’t get it, but that was a super shitty thing Kylie did. 

Kylie also came home yesterday morning talking about how she got into an accident and wasn’t sure if she’d need a rental to get by, but as the story unfolded for each person she told (since she insisted on talking in the kitchen instead of her bedroom), the story subtlety changed until her mom showed up. It went from a vehicle spinning off and side swiping her to rear ending her. When I finally saw her car for myself there were 3 scratches and no dents in her bumper at all, nor anything on the side. Seriously, maybe I’m just getting too old for this level of drama too, but this is just crap. >.>’ 

Alex and I got some serious girl time in last night with tacos and tequila, and we’re rotating Tuesday nights. We were talking about how awesome it is we ended up being being friends, and got a serious amount of laughs and political discussion in. I needed it.

Dropping Tears of Rage to the Floor


My dream starts off in a dim cafeteria that only has small windows towards the top of the double story ceiling to provide any light; I’m volunteering through hannaford by servicing people in need when I hear a familiar voice “I wanna see carol, I miss her so much.” I’d recognize that pouty voice anywhere since I served her for almost 3 years as her team leader. I come rushing around the corner and give becky a huge hug and begin cry my eyes out with her on her shoulder, saying I’m sorry over and over again. Danielle, my supervisor at hannafords, looks on fondly.

Later I run into my former boss Sarah, and ask her how I can help out. She hands me a box of gift cards to be stocked from local stores and restaurants, mostly from outback steak house. I dropped the box as I’m walking away and they all spread across the floor; the box is no longer usable. I organize the cards in piles and pick them back up, and drop them again, but they remain mostly in the piles I put them in. I put them away and look to the back of the room… That’s when I see her… Gina. She now drops something and I go over to help her pick it up. She doesnt know I’m here and doesn’t make eye contact, so in my generosity there’s a spiteful “fuck you I’m nice” element. “Kill them with kindness” comes to mind.

“Oh im so glad you guys are here. The work you all do is wonderful; you guys should come work for us” she says with a faux simper.

“Sorry, but I already did that once before, and I’ll never do it again.”

She finally looks at me and I’m beaming at her. She’s stunned, and I continue on holding on to my power and a slow simmering rage towards her to exert my dominance, tell her how much I love my job now, and how much it’s a shame that I’ll never work for such a terrible employer again. Gina struggles to find a snarky comment, and I leave before she gets the chance.

This time I’ve given a clothing donation to take care of,  but to my horror my dirty shirt and 2 pairs of underwear are among them! I’m trying desperately to conceal them by wrapping them up in a bundle, but they keep falling out and the stack gets bigger and heavier. Gina walks by and snarks “you should be more careful next time” with a smirk on her face. I ignore her and make it sound as if I can’t hear her. I brush it off and pick myself back up, not wanting to be phased.

In the next row I hear someone say “oh look, it’s carol Simpson! Oh, never mind, you’re too tall! Ha ha ha” when I look I see Ellen had said that to Bee in gest as a way of making fun of me. “Oh fuck you” I scream at the top of my lungs, but no one hears me or cares in a room crawling with people. I storm off and try to center myself.

I’m outside and near a body of water I think, but before me buried in sand is a bunch of stones – onyx, hemetite, jasper, sun stone, moon stone… And these are all mine! They’re from my bedroom! My brother Jim is nearby, and where he’s stolen from me before I furiously storm up and confront him. “DID YOU TAKE MY STONES” I screm at full force. Jim can’t take ownership of what he’s done, and mom and big Jim are now standing to my left. “Just tell her you did it” mom says, since jims face is now twisted with embarrassment and guilt. He says he did, and I launch into a speech asking him why he feels it’s okay to treat me like shit and disrespecting me through my belongings, but most importantly those are healing stones, and he tried to sabotage my ability to heal in stealing them.

Just then my mother snarks “ironic isn’t it; now you know how I feel.” She was referring to when I was 14 I had stolen from her, but when I tried to explain to her that was different cause little jim is now an adult, big Jim (his dad) steps in and says something, but I don’t remember what it was. I know I threw my hand up in a “stop” gesture, and told him I didn’t give a shit what someone as abusive and negligent as him has to say; what I do know is that I was seething with rage.

Suddenly there’s a restaurant dining room connected too the home kitchen I’m standing in, and I’m screaming at mom and Jim, but they don’t care and disregard me as crazy and irrational with a whole restaurant of people judging me silently and taking my moms side. I felt like telling people off in that moment and defending myself as not crazy, but I chose to ignore them instead, pretending the kitchen is a barrier that keeps me safe from the crowd of diners. Little Jim never apologized, and I don’t recover all my stones from the beach; there was one in particular that has gone missing and I start contemplating making Jim pay me back or just buy me a new one.

On Spirituality & Self

I suppose the need for control comes from the inability to forgive… If I could forgive, I wouldn’t need to have so many walls up…

What would it look like to forgive? What would it look like to forgive myself? Forgiveness and “letting go” go hand-in-hand… I don’t know what I’m doing or how to do it.


In my pro Christian days I don’t think I had it figured out then either… I mean when it felt like God had forgiven me, I was allowed to forgive myself, and in forgiveness there was a commitment to do better, die of the old ways of sin, and accept a new me… But that wasn’t really accepting me; it was flawed because I was rejecting parts of myself to be healed when healing requires taking the parts of ourselves we’ve rejected and integrating it back into ourselves. It seems like everything I had done on that journey was a journey of suppression and self-condemnation to earn the forgiveness of a meninist white-American dictator we know as a Christian “God” who presents himself as having borderline personality disorder.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt genuinely happy… It’s hard to appreciate what is good in my life, and that’s a chronic problem.


I read more of the love yourself heal your life book, and it talked about anger and what a pointless problem it is… Something happens and we get angry, then something happens and we get angry, and then something happens and we’re angry; it’s cyclical.

Ben didn’t come home last night and still hasn’t come home. I found out through Kylie he’s at Exeter hospital. He was there because of severe dehydration and malnourishment due to his CRPS, GERD, and something else… His bones were also starting to shrink because of everything, so they did surgery and put a permanent feeding tube in. It’s funny what we manifest for ourselves… Between facticious disorder and him being anorexic years ago, plus talk of a permanent pump that dispenses a slow and steady opioid-based painkiller for his nerve damage (oh, and the walking canes he now uses), it seems as if everything he’s told me he feared or use to wrestle with as a diagnosis is now manifesting all at once, and It’s baffling to watch. Additionally I find it funny that last week Kylie was all “yeah, I’m not gonna get involved in people’s medical stuff”, but yet she knew what was going on the whole time and has been – grrr. I can’t stand hypocrisy. 😡 that or she’s deliberately trying to push me away from him the same way she tried to prevent us from becoming friends… Good old times. >.>’

*sigh* I went from feeling deeply to pissed in 1 thought. Fucking hell… I do hope Ben is okay. He’s been enjoying all the attention he’s been getting online lately through all his support groups telling him what a hero he is for his struggle. I really hope this isn’t some deep manifestation of self-sabotage on his end… It’s just all so… Ironic.

In the end it’s not my journey, but I still fear for him because I care; I just try to keep my distance because I don’t think he wants me involved cause if he did, he’d just openly tell me.

I hate myself again… 😓 I went looking for a spell for forgiveness and there was nothing for self-forgiveness or anything that seemed relevant. I could create my own, but I’d have to know the emotion to tap into and the vision of what it would look like, but I don’t have that at all.

I’m lost… So very lost. On a side note I talked about how since I was a kid whenever I would pray or engage in spiritual/energy work, I yawn a ton although I’m not tired. Turns out I’m releasing a ton of higher energy all at once; grounding myself and taking in energy from other sources (such as the earth) could help with that. As irony would have it, I can open the crown chakra way too easily but have the worst time opening the root chakra. Visual techniques for chakra work never work for me.

Update: finally found a spell, and it reminds me of a Buddhist mantra. Original post can be found on justwicca.com

Forgive self spell:

As I work on myself and work on changing my life for the better, I realize how hurt I am and how fragile I am as a person and human being. I have a lot of emotion pent up inside of me. A lot of issues, a lot of darkness, a lot of anger. I wanted to write a forgiveness spell to help aid in the release of those emotions from your life.

Wiccan Forgiveness Spell

1. Cast your circle

2. Light a candle (this should be decided by you. Have a look at spell candles: colors and meanings for more information)

3. Close your eyes.

4. Chant the following : I love you. I am sorry. Please forgive me. Thank You.

5. Chant the sentences, in that order – for 9 minutes.

6. Do this often.

This chant is a very ancient tradition and it helps tremendously to clear negative energies and karma. You can enhance this forgiveness spell by writing a letter of self-forgiveness and piercing a needle through the lemon with the letter attached.

A lot of of my spells lately have included lemon. Check out my new lemon love spell. I see that lemon represents; love, success and healing – all of which apply here.

Take the lemon and bury it in a place that you do have to see often. This symbolizes the release of this energy away from you – the distance and also renewal. The earth will change the lemon and the negative energies attached to them. It will wither and fade -just like your pain – and transform into something more.

This was my forgiveness spell MAINLY for self-forgiveness. This spell should be used as you see fit. You are co-creating your universe and you do have a say in how you want your life to turn out. I am working on being patient, kind and generous because those things weren’t shown to me as a child and I would like to be healthy of mind and spirit before utilizing my full mother Goddess energy.

I am working on creating a YouTube to upload pagan meditations. I have one spell enhancement video up – but cannot wait to create more for you guys!

Thank you for joining the forum! Thank you for liking and sharing this post. Hey – a powerful woman told me you were awesome! –  Thanks for being awesome!

Woot!

 

 

The Thunderstorms of Anger


Anger… It thunders. It’s loud, and comes with a torrential downpour.

Sometimes there is warning; a rumble in the distance to let you know it’s coming, but overall it’s a downpour, and it’s difficult to control. 

The winds of emotion sway the sacred trees of inner wisdom that carry the artistic leaves of presence…

I’m angry, and I need to work through this. 

I’m angry at myself because I couldn’t release the need for control over a situation that I question was worth being angry over… But then again, there is an element of safety on the line…

Safety for our wellbeing and health…

Safety for our ability to continue on here…

Safety. The need for control is the desire to be safe… But I don’t want it to be at the expense of other people’s emotions… Then again, they know better. It’s been 6 months. They’re adults. They know better. 

In the end I’m only trying to justify my anger rather than accept and let it go…

But how. How do I do that in this context. How do I do that in general? 

I’m angry. It’s okay to have this feeling. Anger serves a protective function, and it is normal.

What is my anger trying to tell me beyond that… I just don’t know. 

A Slave to Control


I’m either an enabler who can’t say anything or a control freak for opening my mouth – that’s how I feel. I feel trapped over the stupidest shit, and in the end I know it’s because I use control to prevent anger outbursts because that’s the defective wall I hide behind versus saying I’m vulnerable, but where’s the room for me to say that in this situation?

It was shaming, blaming, and “no I’m not willing to talk about this” crap. I’m trying to turn it inward and ask myself where the panic comes from, where the emotions come from, and all I know is that my fear of being controlling starts with my mom from raising her children and needing to maintain the household (effectively losing my childhood), and my fear of not being able to speak up and therefor give in to enabling comes from living with my dad. He was so micromanaging that if I spoke up I’d be punished, so shut the fuck up and get it done. I’d ask him why something needs to be done and the answer was to get in my face and retort “because I said so.”

I hate myself for feeling so unbalanced, for feeling the need for control beyond a healthy limit – it mirrors codependency so damn much…. Then the moment I meditate I lose the ability to process the emotion. I do practice “rain” and attempt to re-parent my inner child by talking to my emotions as the were their own entity because in a very real way they are; each emotion is an isolation, a frozen state of time that I haven’t processed. Sadness is my early childhood, anger is my preteen/teen years, and somewhere between they evolve. Touching those emotions is touching a fragment of time and I’m shocked – it’s been 10 years since I’ve lived in a state of obsession under my parents roof, recalling every wrong, replaying every detail, and I walked away from it because I figured out it was hurting me more than it was helping, but damn… This would have been easier to deal with 10 years ago….

I’m speechless within myself, unable to conclude where to end this inner dialogue… Something feels so incomplete and I don’t know what it is.

A Job for Life

I’m at my former place of employment – Yangtze, and I’m begging for a job from Moe. I feel incredibly small… almost half his height; in real life however he’s only about 2 or 3 inches taller than me. He seems somewhat kinder and fatter than he use to be, but I don’t question it. He listens attentively to me and responds both kindly and favorably; then just as he was about to give me the okay to start working, the entire Yangtze crew of waitresses interjects between me and the boss. The odd thing is I don’t know any of them, but they all “know” me. The first girl is heavy set, snooty, and has dirty blonde hair; you can tell she smokes and drinks heavily from the condition of her skin and teeth. Anyway, she pipes in to speak against me and tells Moe I shouldn’t be hired back because they all had too many problems with me. Calmly and rationally, I confronted her and told her to tell me the problems she had with me, stating “I can’t take ownership or responsibility for my actions until you tell me what I did wrong.” She was dumb struck but trying to keep her composure, so I said “go ahead, tell me what I did wrong, and then I can tell you what you did wrong.” I heard this kind of “Oooo” in the background and “psh” off to the side. Obviously I was pissed. Here I am begging for a job because my life and my sons life is on the line, and then this bitch who doesn’t even know me decides to step in and dictate my life? Who the hell does she think she is!?! Never the less they all disperse and I kind of wander around the restaurant waiting for a response from Moe. Then another waitress steps forward and decides to “inform “me whats “wrong” with me, without actually telling me whats wrong. She was my height, black hair, African American, medium thickness with her weight; actually she was very pretty. She told me I should just leave because I’m gonna screw everyone over. I told her “I dont even know you!!! Who are you to say anything?”, but she just kept telling me I suck, I’m gonna screw everyone over, I should leave, etc… She finally leaves and I walk back over to Moe. He WAS going to give me the job, but now because of the waitresses, and my less than flattering performance on saying I was gonna tell the other waitress whats wrong with her, he decides he doesn’t want to anymore. I break-down in a hard, heavy, and painful cry, trying to keep it as quiet as possible which made the intensity worse. The only thing that ran through me was the feeling that dictation between life and death was made for me and my son; we had no hope. Moe saw me sobbing and he visibly felt bad, but had made up his mind. The dream ends.

o311401

Negativity

It started off with my ex. It’s fragmented at this point, but I remember being very angry at him. I remember him hitting on me, and my skin crawled. I was on the outside looking in, trying to warn some woman about how bad he was – but she didn’t listen. He was manipulative and deceiving – I couldn’t stand it.

Then I remember being with someone I thought was a friend. She was dyeing her hair purple, and I thought it was awesome. I turn around and look for the blue dye so I can do the same in this over-sized beauty store. I couldn’t find any, so I look for the next best thing – hair chalk. Sadly there was none at all. I wandered around and heard no response when asking people if they knew if the store had some. Oh well – defeated I walk back to my friend and settle on a red color. I get the stuff in my hair and wait a little bit, then walk to some random person working there and ask for my hair to be rinsed out. As I play with my hair real quick I noticed a big thick blob of blue hair dye, so I work it into the rest of my hair real quick and also got it purple. Once I was happy I sit in the chair for her to rinse it and instead, she grabs a huge pair of kitchen sheers and starts to cut it straight along the back. When I tried to move she pinned me, so I pushed her and jumped out. “WHAT THE HELL” I screamed, “Why did you do that!?!” “Because I didn’t like it. No one should be wearing bright colors like that in their hair; it’s unnatural.” I felt around the back and she didnt get all my hair. I was crushed; it looked like a mullet now. I run back and tell my friend what happened and so we approach her together. We tell her we’re rinsing out my hair and she said no, so I beat the shit out of her. I was fuming, and I couldn’t help it. Normally I’m not like this in real life, and I’m rather ashamed to be typing it out even if it was just a dream. :-/

Short-purple-hair-color

Digging in my Closet (Dreams from May)

Hey guys,

So I was looking through some old documents on my computer trying to find a phone number, when I had totally forgotten I had a dream folder I started in May, prior to starting this blog. I figured I share them with you. I dont remember the one with my ex, but I do remember the baby one. That was horrifying.

5/2/12
“What an awful nightmare… I was chased around by these 2 black guys trying to rape me. They asked me to get in their car thinking I was a hooker and I said no. I run through a beaten path in the middle of the woods. I loose guy number 1, but guy number 2 is hot on my track. I find a white house in the middle of the woods. I didn’t bother to knock cause the lights were on, so someone was awake and willing to listen. I burst through the back door into the kitchen, slam it, and no sooner had I turned around when he follows me in and tries to catch me in this random strangers home! I run into the living room where I see a mother and a baby she’s cradling who’s about a month old. Frantic I try to tell her were in danger – but too late. I hear a spray can and the guy is now spraying roach spray in order to kill me, but I ran away. I watched in my minds eye however as he proceeds to spray the baby in the face with roach killer – and the mother didn’t struggle. She was in shock and horror. Turns out the black man trying to rape me was this guy’s wife, and the baby he killed was theirs.”

 

5/16/12

“Aris and I were at my house and he was doing random shit. First he was over for miscellaneous reasons, then he took off, then he came back in a brand new high power sports car, which he then proceeded to race someone in the parking lot with. The other guy slid and slammed his breaks, and aris proceeded to drift past him within centimeters of the cars slamming each other. Supposedly he scratched him with that top tail fender thing but I didn’t see anything. Anyway, Aris was amused and thankful for the good time and offered to pay for the tiny scratch – which was nothing more than paint coming off on his end onto this other guys car. No dents.

We all go back into my house where they proceed to chill and chat in the kitchen discussing their choice in sports cars. I was about to leave again to head to market basket, but as I rounded the corner out the front door, the other guy asked if he had plans later. Aris said yes, with some other woman. Typical me I hung my head low and walked straight back into the kitchen sulking and panicked. Aris was fiddling around with some cheese for a sandwich at this point, and I needed a hug from disappointment. I waited for him to come and comfort me, but instead he gave me this awful smirk, knowing he hurt me and doesn’t care – he enjoys it (yes I get that smirk in real life.) Instead the other guy comes up towards me to grab a drink behind me. Seeing my sorrow the stranger proceeds to embrace me… to fulfill the need I had for a hug and nurturing  I reject him because I don’t know him very well, and because I found myself in a mix of emotions. I was flattered, admiring him, and upset for touching me when he never asked me if it was okay. He let me go and wandered off to get that drink. I felt embarrassed then because he lived here at the same complex, and I rejected him when he was trying to be kind. I wondered if he would try something like that again. Aris finally gets up and proceeds to give me the hug that I needed, but also hugging me from behind instead of my front. I can’t bury my face in his chest. Then we start talking again in our usual “I’m not fighting, but tensions are there” styles.
What sucks was when I started typing this, the conversation was fresh and I knew what he said.
Amazing what 5 minutes can do. 😦 Damn.”

mountain climber

Teachers of Revenge

I’m going to school, and the school itself has changed. It’s a fusion of my college and my son’s elementary school. Sy has daycare at “our” school now, and its a woman who looks almost the same as his primary teacher, along with a few teachers aids. After I’ve dropped him off in the classroom I turn around after shutting the door and see a loud mouth gossiper who’s my “friend” in this dream. She’s a short older grey haired woman in a darker grey sweater and black jeans. I say hi real quick and walk off to class, but forget where the class is located (I think) and wander back. There’s a door open, and the gossiping woman and my son’s teacher are talking in a closet and the “friend” starts to lie to her, saying how I’ve been telling people that I’ve been working hard in the classroom with my son; So in an effort to “help,” she tells my son’s teacher that I should have a job in the classroom, and possibly take her job. I stop her nonsense talk right then and there in a state of panic and fury, and interrupt them to clarify I never said any of this. All I said was that I volunteered in the classroom once, but wasn’t very helpful at all. As I said this, I looked at the teacher first, and placed my hand on her shoulder to try and validate my point. She was in the classroom, so she would know; then I look at my “friend” and glare at her. She’s embarrassed as fuck, and the teacher is pissed. The teacher stormed out of the closet leaving me upset and worried.

Later I’m in another classroom and I’m forced to stop what I’m doing. I’m bound and gagged by a bunch of women. They held me down, straw in my mouth, and forced me to over dose on cough medicine to try and kill me. It doesn’t work as planed. I pass out, but still breathing, so they send me to a torture room to have me killed in maple syrup  I’m lying on this metal grid with large circles in it, and it starts to raise. Syrup floods the room and starts to boil. I feel uncomfortable and roll over – a little to close to the edge to the point of falling in. Just then I’m rescued by a bunch of other teachers who actually work with the police, figured out “Leanne” – the teacher did it, and am healed back to normal. I give a statement and ask for a follow up report, but it turns out they’re not going to bring her to justice. I was pissed! In the end the police dropped me off outside the school, which is now located somewhere random in the middle of Dover. I realize all that drama made me miss 24 hours of class, but whats worse – where has my son been for the past 24 hours? I freak out and run around looking for him, but to no avail. I walk back to the school to try and find him there but I cant find the school now.  I look for a cop to help me but none of them are out driving.

I’m ready to cry. I miss my son.

I wake up