Rage & Progress

Sometimes I feel like I’m maladjusted because of my rage. Other times I feel like I need it. I’m codependent on my rage. I don’t know how to live without it.

I tried hypnotherapy and for a little bit, it made me “calm” but it felt strange and I didn’t like it. I felt numb like I couldn’t feel rage because I could feel anything. I was just neutral. I felt hollow, and “without.” After the feeling eventually eroded, I didn’t want to feel like that again. When I was “neutral,” I was complacent, like I was just okay being where I was and had no further motivation to do anything else. It felt weird not being productive or doing something with my time to improve my circumstances.

I’ve been told that sometimes I have unrealistic expectations about the world, and about myself. I hold myself to impossible standards of perfection that are almost certainly unattainable, and hold others to a standard they wouldn’t meet either.

But that’s just it. I feel like the only way I can strive and make moves is WITH my rage and anger.

My anger is intertwined with passion. Anger is the only way I can feel. Anger is the only way I can feel like I have a reason to do the necessary actions to change or improve my situation. It fuels me to do better.

I was angry about my job at Sherwin Williams and frustrated with the dead end feeling of working a job I hate, with a boss that was terrible, for a paycheck that was too small. So I worked my day job at Sherwin, and held a freelance (and I mean FREE, devoid of any monetary compensation) job. I ended up working 7 days a week, almost 80 hours a week for almost a year in order to build up my resume to move full time into digital marketing.

I was angry with my parents and the dysfunction of living with them, so I moved out and I was happier.

I was angry that my siblings received preferential treatment and got cars while I had to ride my bike (that I paid for myself), the bus, etc. After I had wrecked my car in an accident, my mom bought a new car for herself when in the past my siblings had also crashed cars and received brand new ones at the cost of free. So I saved enough money until I bought my own car with no help from them.

I was angry about being told by my hypocritical father with a failing business and six-figure debt that I have no agency because I’m a woman. So I started my small business to prove that I can raise a business from the ground up on my own without my parents’ help and drive a profit. I wanted to prove my worth as a person in order to prove my dad wrong.

I was angry about constantly being told as a kid that I would just grow up to be someone’s wife, that I should just focus on looking pretty, staying skinny, not speaking up unless spoken to, be 100% obedient to my husband hand and foot. I was constantly compared to my siblings and I refused to be just some passive secondary character in my own life. I worked my ass off until I earned a good salary.

I was angry that nothing more was expected of me. So I bought a house with my boyfriend (no help from either of our parents) at the age of 28.

An ex-boyfriend used to tell me that I was basically worthless garbage especially after my weight gain, so I hit the gym 6 times a week until I dropped all the weight and more.

I feel like if I don’t have something to be angry about, then I can’t progress. I can’t move. I worry that if I’m ever at a point in my life where I’m happy, I will never be able to refuse my circumstances and incite the necessary changes to move the needle in significant ways to improve my life.

I don’t know where all this anger comes from. I need this anger. I hate this anger. It’s a poisonous fuel. How do I reconcile those two things? I need to fuel to keep my fire going, but at the same time, it’s poisoning me. I don’t know how to be happy and still motivated. I worry that if I ever feel genuinely at peace, and happy, that I won’t be able to accomplish anything great.