I find rage an interesting topic.
I looked up the word rage in the dictionary. In every definition it says “violent.” My brother has told me yesterday and my stepfather 2 years ago, that I am a rageful person. They only call it rage because it is something they feel within themselves. It is something they feel within themselves when they read my truthful words. But rage is commonly violent. I am not violent.
I have never done a violent thing in my entire existance. I have not intentionally hurt anyone. I have not physically ever hurt anyone. Infact, since I have felt rage/violence at the hands of others, I have never exhibited rage.
When I think of rage I think of a person smashing something on purpose. I think of purposeful anger displayed in a violent way. I have seen violence many times in my life. I have seen physical violence towards animals, children and adults. I have been a victim of rage/violence. I have been shot at. I have had my face slashed with a knife. I have had my head bashed against a wall. I have had my face buried in the carpet in a rageful violent manner while I was raped.
I know rage. I have experienced rage. My body has been the victim of rage more times than I care to remember or document for this writing purpose.
I have seen holes punched in walls out of rage. I have seen windows smashed with hammers in rage. I have seen couples scream at each other in rage.
In my lifetime I have rarely raised my voice. I have rarely yelled. I have never physically displayed any signs of rage.
Now, do I feel rage? Well…I do not feel violent. Do I feel deep anger within myself on some days? Absolutely. What I have always defined as internal rage is a fire, a boiling, a bubbling of anger that wants to explode. Have I felt this? Yes. Have I ever acted on it? No. I have never destroyed anything, beaten anything, damaged anything.
Do my words sound rageful? If that means my words have enormous anger at those who have harmed me, those who have perpetrated lies, those who have covered up abuse, and those who continue to abuse me and silence me….then yes, I have spoken those words.
But to label me as rageful? I do not accept that label.
A person can try to pin a label on you but that in no way means you have to accept it. You can just lay it back at their feet. They may not pick it up but it is theirs and not yours.
I am kind. I have empathy, compassion, and a very fragile and sensitive heart. I am outraged at abuse. I am outraged at the way society treats victims of rape and sexual assault. Is outraged the same as rage? No. It is the inability to stand by and watch injustice happen to those who have already been victimized.
I have emotions. I share them. I do not hold them in. But I have never been rageful. When I tear up the house, bash up the walls, throw the plates at the wall, and chop up pictures on the wall I don’t like , well then I’d say I have experienced a fit of rage, I will let you know when that happens as I am and always have been transparent in my blog. I know of countless people who have had a rage and it is acceptable. It is deemed understandable. So and so just flipped and had a rage because she was so angry that such and such happened. Well, that has never happened to me. Maybe if I didn’t have a muscle disease I COULD have a violent rage. But so far…not happened.
My current mood is that I am easily aggitated at ignorance. I am easily aggitated with disrespect. I do have anger at the continuing illusion my family has used to try to hurt me. I get to be angry. I get to be aggitated. I don’t take these feelings out on anyone. Ask my husband. Ask my daughter. I get up and take care of my family while dealing with constant and excruciating pain with little complaint. And IF for a moment, I do feel THAT angry, I close myself in my room until I have calmed down. I go for a wheelchair walk until I have calmed down.
My brother and my stepfather have said I have rage. I would like to change that word for them to…truth. I simply speak the truth. Perhaps it causes rage within them and they project it on me. I am just human.
I wonder: would my brother or stepfather stop in the middle of the road to pick up an earthworm from getting run over by a car? Would they chase a treefrog around the house on their hands and knees for an hour to set him back outside? Would they sit in the yard for 5 hours while baby birds learn to fly so that the black snake doesn’t get them? Would they hand feed a baby squirrel with a syringe that fell out of a tree for 6 months every 3 hours? Would they run into a chemical house to save little baby kittens, then hold them on their chest as they each die and bury them one by one? Would they spend 8 years holding the hands of people dying in nursing homes? Would they ….oh who am I kidding. They wouldn’t do any of those things. But I have and I do every day. They cannot even be loyal to their own family, I doubt they would even notice an earthworm trying to get across the road. Becasue I believe that every little soul matters, they don’t. The certainly don’t believe that my soul matters. So my words cause THEM to feel rage. They are words they don’t want to hear. How can we raise awareness for sexual assault, rape, violence against women, mental health, when there are people like my own brother who give false labels/minimize/revictmize. This is a battle. One I intentend to not lose.
So if holding somoene accountable for allowing abuse, calling someone a fucking asshole for hurting me, and continuing speaking my life story on my blog makes me full of rage…I guess that is something they will have to live with. But it is not how I will define myself, nor will I ever. I will just keep speaking the truth.