Anger

We live in a world where anger is looked at negatively.  But the truth is, there are times when I am glad I have a bit of a temper.  Anger has saved me from a lot of really bad situations.  It has made me fight back and stand up for myself.  Many time in the past the anger has been rage so the fighting back has been ugly.

Something happened today that made me angry.  Really angry.  I was able to express that anger in a much more constructive way, and also use the anger to enable me to not get sucked into the wrong conversation.  To stand up for myself and say that the way this was going was wrong.

Dashed

For the last 2 weeks there has been an Amber Alert out for a 5-year old boy and his grandparents here where I live.  Today the police announced they are charging someone with 3 counts of murder.  It is hard for me to fathom.  Writing is so often my outlet for things, and this has been rattling around my head today.

A city on edge.
Hoping against hope.
Praying.
Knowing that the hope might be for naught.
Knowing that the prayer might be for naught.
And yet continuing on.

Trying to ignore the voice in your head
That says, if they are alive, why haven't the police found them.
Trying to ignore the terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach
That grows stronger everyday.
Wanting so badly to be wrong, so wrong.

Thinking, it will be ok.
He's with his grandparents at least.
He's not alone.
They are ok.
It's one of those weird stories where they are stashed away.

And then you hear the Amber Alert is cancelled and the police will update soon.
And the hairs on your arms stand up straight.
The feeling in the pit of your stomach gets worse
You feel tingly in an eerie way all over.

And then, you know.
You know the truth.
You want to throw up
You want to scream
You want to cry
Anything, anything.

And all that goes through your head is how
How can anyone do that?
To other people?
To the kid who was there my fluke.

Families destroyed.
How does the family go on?
How do the parents cope?
How do they raise 2 other kids who deserve a normal life?
How, how, how?

A city in mourning.
Sadness and anger abounds.

To the families of those killed, my heart goes out to you.

Raw

I feel cracked open wide.  And raw, totally raw.  You know when you get a sore spot on your tongue and you can't stop rubbing it against your teeth, even though it hurts?  That kind of raw.

Yesterday I started to address the previous workplace trauma in my counseling session.  I opened the lid on the box that has been nailed shut for the last 6 years.  It was brutal really.  But the thing is, the box was so full that things were coming out the sides, in weird way.  Hopefully by taking the lid off I can relieve some of the pressure.

It took all of my courage to start talking about all of it. I didn't really know what I was going to find in the box, but I was sure scared of it. I felt like I was going to be sick I had so much anxiety.  I could barely speak, barely get started.  I'm working on not being so scared of it.  On remembering that I have tools now that I didn't have then.  That I have medications to help control the depression and anxiety.  That I can handle this.  This last one is a harder sell to be sure.

It was such a terrible time in my life that it is hard to relive it, hard to talk about it and explore it.   I haven't done much of that at all since it happened.  There is so much hurt, so much anger, so much sadness, so much despair, and so much desperation there.  When I think of at all I am actually not sure how I managed to keep going, how I managed to much of anything at all.

They say time heals all wounds, but in this case I'm not sure that is true.  Time has given me a chance to get in a better place to handle it all, but it certainly hasn't healed any of it.  Talking about it, looking at it as the person I am now instead of the person I was then, that is what I think will help, at least I hope so.

Stampede Parade reflections

I went to the Stampede Parade yesterday.  I loved watching the crowd as it gives such a good indication of the city where I live.  Some thoughts/observations.

I went to the parade with 2 women from work.  We had a great time.  As I took a moment to reflect, I realized that in some parts of the world the three of us would never be allowed to meet, let alone hang out together.  One woman is Chinese from Malaysia.  One is a francophone, black woman from Quebec, and I am a gay, white women from Alberta.

Watching the parade was cool.  I liked seeing the kid in the cadets with a turban.  I like seeing the differences among the Canadian, American, Australian and Taiwanese marching bands.  I liked seeing people from all walks of life, all backgrounds, sitting next to each other cheering, laughing, clapping and yahooing at the same things.  I liked watching the kids put their names in chalk circles on the street to see who could win "horse poop bingo" (this is a long-standing tradition).  What I liked the most was realizing again that we are all the same inside, no matter what we look like on the outside.

And this is what I love about Canada.  We all get the chance to meet each other.  There are people from all over the world and yesterday was a celebration of all that is good in everyone's culture.  What a great way to start a 10 day party.

Shame where it belongs

After I wrote the last couple of posts about being bullied at a previous workplace, something started to shift. It was shame. Ever since I was in that workplace I have been carrying around shame for what happened. This shows up in blaming myself for a lot of things. In thinking "if only"...

I also haven't talked a lot about what happened, not here, not in counseling, not with friends. I have been living in fear that if I talk about it, someone will blame me, like the powers that be at that workplace did. But all the fear and not talking do is to perpetuate the idea that I was at fault.

That the problem was that I couldn't handle things and that meant there was something wrong with me. That I was struggling and therefore I needed to change who I am.  I believed this thinking for a long time. I suspect on some level I still do. But things are shifting.

I didn't do anything wrong. This was not my fault. Did I have a hard time? Sure. Did I have a couple of reactions at work that I wish had been different? Sure. But ultimately I was in a very dangerous and harmful situation and I was doing what I needed to in order to survive. That is all. No shame, no blame, just survival...and that was all I could manage then, and for a long time afterwards.

I think that I needed to get stronger in order to face this. It is really hard. I think I must be strong enough now because I am looking at it more deeply than I have let myself before.

And so bully, and so powers that be, and so others not willing to do something, this is me putting the shame.back on you. Where it has always belonged. You are the ones that created this situation and you are the ones that had the power to make it better and wouldn't. The shame is yours.

Cracked open

I've been thinking a lot about my trauma from workplace bullying a lot the last few days. I guess this is what happens when you crack open the parts that have been hidden and sealed off for a long time. I thought I had dealt with what happened in that workplace. Turns out I was wrong, or at least partially wrong.

I have let myself be extremely angry with the bully's boss and with a few other people who refused to do anything. And I had myself convinced that this was enough. The truth is I haven't processed my feelings about the actual bully. I haven't felt safe enough to go there. Wow, crazy effect that kind of mentally dangerous situation can have. I'm still having trouble making myself face it because I am scared of what I am going to find. I am scared to open up that box again.

I know it was a horrible time for me and so much of me just wants to forget it. But, if I have learned anything about myself in working on recovery from depression, it's that I can't forget things like that. I can pretend I have, but eventually it catches up with me. The other thing is that I know the stuff I haven't dealt with is affecting how I react to things today, and it is making me react in ways I don't like all that well.

I know that I will tackle this, but it is going to take time. I think I need to go slow so I can convince myself I am safe and exploring these emotions is ok.

Crawling out of my skin

After I wrote the last post I was struggling. I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my skin. Like my skin wasn't big enough, like my apartment wasn't big enough, like I needed more space to deal with the emotion in me. So I went for a walk.

When I started I was walking fast, clenching my fists and feeling reckless. I walked by the liquor store and thought how satisfying it would be to go in and smash a few things and steal a few things. Reckless.

It took 45 minutes and about 20 blocks before I started to feel better. Amazing what kind of energy that amount of tough emotion can generate.