Rage

I’ve been reading a little of Dr. Sarno’s book The Mind Body Prescription, and I have a lot of thoughts about it:

• I do believe there’s a correlation between trauma/rage and pain/illness.
• I don’t know what to do with that belief or what to do next.
• It makes me feel more “hippie-dippy” than I care to feel.
• I’m starting to question everything: past pain, headaches, my tinnitus.
• WHY can’t brilliant researchers/authors hire brilliant promoters who could make the information/book covers/titles sexy enough that these important messages actually make it into the mainstream?? (That’s an admittedly judgy one, but seriously.)

Anyhow, his premise is that physical pain and illness is a direct result of emotional pain, namely rage. This has made me think a lot about anger.

I pride myself on being pretty self-controlled. I rarely raise my voice; my husband and I have never argued (we have hurt each other, and we have disagreed, but we both prefer to remain calm and collected while hashing it out). So, while I can identify with “anger,” I have a harder time applying the word “rage” to my emotions.

But, you know what? There IS rage there. I am so fucking angry. I am angry about so many things–mostly how much I’ve suffered (much at my own hands, or shall I say two fingers) in order to spare others. I am mad that I WAS JUST A CHILD when my mom neglected me, made me into a little grown-up, forced me to poorly parent my brother. I’m SO angry that my parents’ shit ruined so much, that they couldn’t get it together enough to just make it be OK–that it is thanks to them that my brother has estranged himself from me. I’m angry that my mother hasn’t changed. I’m angry that there is no going back, no fixing it.

I’m starting to realize that it’s this stored rage that bubbles up every time I talk to my mom on the phone. I’m not really that annoyed by her drama or self-absorption; I’m enraged by how quickly it recalls the past.

Day 115.