As long as I can remember, I’ve been afraid of anger.

 

Starting with my father’s rage, which turned into violence against my mother. And I was so afraid of him, afraid for her, afraid for myself and my siblings.

 

I was a very sensitive child. I was afraid for other children who were bullied and did my best to stand up for them, to befriend them. But I felt small and alone in that as well, many times.

 

As young as the age of eight, feeling powerless and alone, the anger and grief I felt started to roll into a dark little ball inside of my belly, where it turned into depression. The empty void was so all consuming, I first attempted suicide at age 11.

 

And so began my experience of perceived powerlessness.

 

It was either taken or I gave it away or a combination of both.

 

And in that sensitive state, I would always shut down.

 

What might happen if I actually unleashed my very own rage at the injustices I was witness to?

 

And so I find myself here 30 years beyond that suicide attempt. In eclipse season.

 

And just one year after I stopped taking antidepressants, it was bound to happen.

 

That dark little ball of condensed anger just finally exploded.

 

It must’ve happened around 4:30 am on a Friday, and I am pretty sure Kali, the Goddess of Destruction was in my dream.

 

The tirade of rage I committed was luckily not aimed specifically at anyone (though my family members who listened to my frustration may have felt attacked) but more concentrated ultimately at the state of my own life. Exhausted. Under-resourced. Anxious. Shut down. Exhausted. Burntout.

 

Did I say exhausted?

 

But what if, I realized, at the center of all that tiredness, I am just really really really fucking angry?

 

And not acknowledging it is wearing me the fuck out.

 

“Step out of the history that is holding you back. Step into the new story you are willing to create.” Oprah Winfrey

 

I am fucking enraged about Charlottesville. And the racist, misogynistic, dismissing fuckery in this country. And and and.

 

I haven’t spoken up as much as I could. I have been literally busy paying the rent and  groceries. But I can still use my voice. SO I AM USING MY VOICE.

 

The thing that was missing in my life growing up was my mother’s rage. If she had it, it didn’t scare me. And because she wasn’t demanding the respect, and my father’s disrespect and hatred towards her was molded inside of me, I didn’t have it.

 

And how ashamed I am now that I didn’t respect her. Because I didn’t see her. She was so invisible in her own depression and misery that I just didn’t see her. All I saw was my father and his big charisma and loud accomplishments and braggery.

 

When you are a child, you act as a child. You stay silent out of fear. You avoid conflict. You stuff your truth.

 

But as a grown woman I cannot live with myself in the misery of silence.

 

And I hear from the Gods that this is a hell. But I haven’t wanted to believe it.

 

I still believe we have the ability to create heaven here on Earth. And there is lots of Heaven to see.

 

But freedom is for everyone. Equality is non-negotiable.

 

For the impoverished, for the marginalized, for the oppressed, for the all.

 

We have got to stand up and stand for that. For ourselves and for each other. Most of all, for our children. For the Earth. For humanity.

 

I am only silent because I am either too afraid to speak up, like a child, or because it is my privilege to remain silent.

 

We must pick apart ignorance and dismissal at the seams...where it festers inside our families and our friends or our acquaintances, but most importantly inside ourselves.

 

You should be angry. And grieving. And rising.

 

In my experience of the multiverse in which we live, there are spirits with us who help us hold our power. Often they are called angels. Often they look like animals.

 

In your dreams you may run in terror from a mighty, fierce lion, or be covered in dozens of spiders that make your skin crawl.

 

These dreams come to us because we are mostly afraid of the power we possess and are running from it.

 

The next time you are chased by an animal in your dream, turn to face it and don’t back down.

 

It might make friends with you. It might eat you. But you will wake up again. And your power will be with you.

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