Last night I became so enraged that I threw something.
This is highly unusual for me. I’m not the type of person who gets so angry that she throws a punch, or starts breaking her dishes. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve gotten upset about things, but I’ve never even considered getting physical.
One of the reasons I’m going to therapy is to get in touch with my emotions. I’ve spent most of my life being rather robotic in this regard. I experience setbacks, I stuff my feelings down, and I move on with my life.
This is not a method I recommend to anyone. You’ll think it’s working, but what’s really happening is that your feelings are lingering just beneath the surface. You can run away from them, but they’ll always catch up to you.
I’ve been very emotional recently. I cried when a song came on the radio. I cried while watching a movie. I cried while reading my blog comments. I cried while thinking about crying. I cried more in the last few weeks than I have in the last few years.
Thanks to therapy, my emotions are up close and center. This has been incredibly difficult for me because I’m actually having to confront my feelings.
Yesterday I received an e-mail from a friend, the same friend I referenced in my “Making the First Move” post. As I stated in that post, things were off to a good start between us, and I honestly felt like we would reconcile.
And I had every intention of doing that until yesterday. Yesterday I not only received a self-interested e-mail from him, but found out additional information that made me realize he wasn’t really serious about putting our friendship back together.
I realized my friend had used me, and I snapped.
Suddenly everything started coming to the surface. All the years of resentment, anger, humiliation, sadness, guilt, fear, frustration, and powerlessness came pouring out of me like an erupting volcano.
The amount of anguish I felt was indescribable. Years’ worth of emotions were piling on top of me, and I felt like I was dying. For the first time in my life, I prayed.
This carried on for hours. The tears eventually ran dry, and I had a brief moment of peace. It was the calm before Hurricane Jen hit.
I flew into a white hot rage.
I started shaking. The crying started up again. I felt like I might throw up. In all my years of existence I have never experienced something so powerful. I had reached my breaking point.
I went to the kitchen, and searched underneath the sink where we keep our recyclables. I found a glass bottle, grabbed it by its neck, and threw it as hard as I could into the ground.
It didn’t break.
It bounced off the floor a few times, and then rolled around. How anti-climactic. If I hadn’t been so angry I probably would have laughed.
Then I sat on the floor and sobbed.
My best friend (who also happens to be my roommate) came out and sat next to me. He put his arm around me, and just let me cry it out. At 32 years old, I was Ferberizing myself.
“We’ll get through this together.”
That’s what my best friend said to me as we hugged, and I believed him.
I looked over and saw the bottle laying on the floor. Despite being slammed into the ground, it was still fully intact. That bottle was unbreakable, and so am I.
I wrote my friend to let him know that our friendship was over. I took a hot shower, letting all of the negativity wash away. I climbed into bed, and pulled the blankets over me.
For the first time in my life, everything really will be okay.