I SCREAM!

I SCREAM at the top of my lungs.
The sound frightens me.
Am I losing my mind?
It feels as though I am…
But I must SCREAM!
I must say something!
Because I never did when I had the chance…

This trigger hurts. 
It hurts so much.
I feel an immediate fight or flight response kick in.
The wash of chemicals floods my body, 
And I’m taken right back to the first time I felt this, the first time I experienced this chemical bath.

I’m triggered. 
Triggered badly.

And I’m enraged.
I want to rip someone’s fucking face off.
I want to beat the shit out of someone.
I want to scream all the words that I never said right in their big, fat, face.

Anger.
You have consumed me in this moment. 
I am not a witness, I am not an observer, 
I have indeed become you….

Have I learned nothing?
And yet I have, because typically what I would have done is not said a word.
Not a whimper, let alone a guttural SCREAM!

I would have sat in my juicy cocktail of chemical messengers and let them eat away at me…literally.
Just a head’s up, when you experience a fight or flight response, it gets you ready for said fight, or said flight, and your body dumps amino acids from muscle into your system for fast fuel…
So, your stress response is breaking down your muscle, making you fatter, by eating away at your precious lean mass…
Ain’t nobody got time for that.

You would be better off to fight, and or fly, to use the fuel and use the chemical messengers that were just dumped into your system…
You’d be healthier if you did too…

But we don’t.
We experience triggers, wrong doings, upsetting events, and we simply sit in them, we say nothing, we do nothing, and we experience a massive internal shift that is fucking horrible for our health, wellness, and general level of peace and comfort.

So instead, I SCREAM.
I roar like a fucking lion, 
Sometimes I run. 
I run fast and hard, and use up some of the chemical goodies that are ransacking my sanity.

I SCREAM, and I scare my self.
And I wonder if I’m losing my mind.
And guess what?

I’m not.
I’m fucking not.

I’m the most sane I’ve ever been.
And nothing, no one, will allow me to question my reality. 
I am done ignoring that little voice within me that says “no,” “this doesn’t feel right,” “something isn’t lining up.” 

That voice is me, and I will honor her. 
I will not take someone’s words, and lack of action, over my own KNOWING.
NEVER AGAIN.

So I SCREAM. 
I am enraged.

Do you see how I did that? 
I became my emotion…
And guess what?
It’s not true.
I am not my emotions.
I am not my feelings, my thoughts, my opinions, my body.
I am something much deeper.
And so are you.

And yet, do you notice we experience an emotion, and we create a story, a dialogue around them…
I experience anger, so I label my self angry.
I experience sadness, so I label my self sad…
It’s not true. 
These are merely emotions, energy in motion, within your body, that you have now claimed and spoken into existence as being YOU.

NOT TRUE.
Simply,
NOT TRUE!

You are not anger, you are experiencing anger.
It is a flash in the pan emotion that has enveloped you after a trigger. 

So, I SCREAM. 
I try to move it through. 
Energy in motion.
I run. 
I dance my fucking heart out, because it must go somewhere, it must move through.
I must fight or flight or freestyle dance…
In a modern world, free styling is the most acceptable.

It’s interesting to see it unfold. 
I have been on a journey of self discovery, and I have learned a multitude of skills, and I have often noted my challenges around anger.
Not that I feel overly angry, just that I have a hard time witnessing and observing it when it comes up. 
I can communicate and observe other emotions much easier, but ANGER….fuck me, 
I hop into that bitch and own it, when I experience it. 
I become it. 
I am flooded. 

Until recently…

I read.
A lot.
I am on a quest.
A quest to fucking own this life. 
A quest that will take me to the depths of who I am, only to lift me higher than I have ever known.
That kind of quest. 
The kind of quest that tales are written about….even if those tales are only ever written by me.
And while on this quest, I read. I observe. I dig. I dive. I investigate. I contemplate. 
All of the above.

And while I read, I compile lists.
Lists within my brain. 
Lists relating to the things that matter.
The tools I need.
The skills I need.
Lists that help me know what to do and when to do it…
File folder, upon file folder.
The file on ANGER is deep.

I have big powerful energy within me…
BIG. POWERFUL. ENERGY.
I feel it so overwhelmingly sometimes,
Usually in a positive way, 
Until it’s not positive, and I experience what I’m talking about here, after a deeply challenging trigger.


AND. I. SCREAM. 

So, what have I read? 
How are these lists and cerebral file folders helping me…
Well, I haven’t screamed in awhile…lol
And this is what I notice…

Anger is the tip of the iceberg, often.
Anger is the thing you see, the emotion you experience. 
And it is often not indicative of the much bigger problem beneath the surface of the water.
Yes, anger can be experienced all on it’s own, but often for me, it’s only the tip of the iceberg…
So what is beneath the surface? 
How do I uncover that?
What is the rest of the iceberg that I have not been able to see?

Hmmm…..

I’m triggered. And I SCREAM!
And now I apply. 
What have I learned? 

What would the master do crystal? 
The master would not choose anger. 
The master would witness anger, and not choose it. 
There is a better way of being my love.

Why are you angry my love?
I replay the trigger,
I replay the event,
I replay the words, 
I replay the trigger.
I look deeper.
I look below the surface.
Why are you angry my love?

The answer:
Because I am hurt.
I am so deeply, deeply hurt….

And there it is.

I am hurting. 
I am hurting so very deeply.
At my core. 
I am bleeding out, 
And anger is the tourniquet I attempt to use to tie this off to prevent further blood loss.

We all have our own ways of dealing with things, emotions, circumstances…
I implore you to dig into your coping strategies, because they often don’t serve you or your purpose.

What is it you want crystal?
I desire to be the master.
I desire to love and honor myself.
I desire to move through my emotions, and this life, with grace, flow, ease, and peace. 

And to do that, I must look below the surface at the HURT that I don’t necessarily want to feel, or know how to feel, or know how to express.

This piece of me has been protected by my EGO for a very long time. 
She’s been doing a masterful job of protecting me from that hurt.
She is wise, and cunning, and unnecessary…now.

It’s easy to get angry and put it on someone else,
And often, that anger you hold towards someone is valid,
And AGAIN, what would the master do? 
Anger does NOT serve the master.
And it doesn’t serve me, my purpose, my desires. 
It doesn’t serve how I desire to move through this life. 

So, I see you anger.
And I may SCREAM you out,
I may scream and then sob a little bit, 
And I may put some music on and dance the fuck out of you, 

And I also see you anger, as that low level bullshit that eats away at my thoughts,
and replays events and words, a neurosis my brain has practiced well.
And again, I ask: 
Why are you angry my love?

Because I am hurting…

I see you below the surface.
I see you hurting. 
I see the child that hid her hurt.
I see the child that hid all her pain, and hurt, and embarrassment, because she didn’t feel safe to express those things. 
AND she did feel safe to express anger. 
A good defense.

Anger was the acceptable, conditioned response, that her EGO conjured up to feel safe. 
To fortify her self.
Her warrior, her inner protector, the one that didn’t let anyone know she was hurting, and instead saved her self by lashing out, 
Because expressing that hurt and being shamed and ridiculed in that was far worse… 

So instead, I choose rage. 
You won’t see me cry. 
You won’t see me hurting. 
You will only see me raging.

Fuck you.
You can’t hurt me. 
I’ll show you…

Except…I was hurting. 

And maybe that worked for me then.
And I can tell you for sure, it hasn’t worked for me as an adult. 
It has kept me quiet about hurtful words that were spoken to me, 
Because I DIDN’T KNOW I was hurt. 
I heard the words, and I felt like a knife was plunged within my heart,
And instead of saying, “that really hurt my feelings,”
Instead of saying, “that was really unkind. And I don’t desire to be spoken to that way.” 
Instead of speaking the hurt, the truth, my TRUTH, to the knife wielder, I covered it up.
I accept the hurt, I take that knife out of my chest, and watch it drip, and I pretend that I’m okay…

It’s merely a flesh wound, I tell myself, and yet pints of blood spill to the floor around me…

Because I’ve been CONDITIONED to not express my hurt.
My truth.
I’ve been conditioned to not be seen. To not be heard in those emotions.
And it makes me FUCKING ANGRY.

Rightfully so.

AND not anymore. 
I’m done dishonoring that child within me that is hurting.
Aren’t you?
I’m done ignoring that truth. 
Aren’t you?
I’m done dishonoring my FUCKING self.
Aren’t you?

She’s way to important to me, to go another breath, without honoring and loving her fully.

C: What would the master do crystal?
c: The master wouldn’t choose anger.
C: And do you want to be the master?
c: Yes.
C: Why are you angry my love?
c: Because I’m hurt. I’m so deeply hurt.

C: I know my love. I know. That really hurt, I felt it too…ouchies……ouchies….ouchies…

The people that hurt you may never have the emotional maturity to hear you.
To see you.
They may NEVER hear you or see you.
They may HAVE NEVER heard or seen you.
No matter how many times you tell them.
No matter how many times you stood/stand in front of them.

Don’t expect them to.
You can still speak your truth to them, 
And please make sure you understand WHY you are doing it.
If you’re doing it for some kind of validation, 
I implore you to re-think your motivation.

Because the thing is, they likely won’t validate your experience. 
They will use your experience to add to their own self loathing, or their own story about who you are through their lens…
Some people will value you enough, 
Some will be awake enough,
and be willing to do the work it takes to investigate this part, 
and some will not.

What do their actions tell you?
What does their history tell you?
You likely already have your answer.

So, I invite you to have a conversation with your self.
Have that heart to heart with you. 
This is how you HONOR your self. 
This is how you HONOR your experience. 

You cannot guarantee that someone else will do this for you.
So you MUST do it for your self.
The people that will do this with you, those are the ones you keep in your present moments.
If someone is continually invalidating and dishonoring you, stop giving them your precious present moments. 
And STOP doing it to your Self. 

I REPEAT: STOP doing it to your SELF.

Your experience is real. 
Your hurt is real.
Don’t blow it off.
Don’t laugh it off.
Just. DON’T.

I SCREAM at the top of my lungs!

C: Are you okay?
c: Yes.
C: Do you feel better? Do you need to scream again?
c: No, I think I’m good.
C: Why are you angry my love?
c: (reflects, looks at what happened, is this anger covering something?) I’m hurt. I’m so deeply hurt.

C: I know my love. I know. That was really painful. Ouchies. Ouchies. Ouchies. 

I am becoming the master. 
I don’t have time for the other shit. 
I just don’t.
I don’t have time for people that don’t honor me.

And that INCLUDES ME. 

And that’s why I’m killing that old version of my self.
I’m killing her by honoring what’s underneath her.
I’m killing her by being kind and asking loving questions.
I’m killing her, so I can put down the sword and move into a world of peace.
I’m killing her. 

And she’s reborn.
She is remembered.
She is reborn the master.
The creator.

Next time you are angry, I simply ask you to ask your SELF this,
Why are you really angry my love?