...well not really. More like fantasizing about screaming.
I’m having a rage relapse. Not sure what triggered it…
I know it’s not rational, not mature and not even justified on my part. But not respecting myself could mean some real damage. Let’s just say I’m glad I’m too inept to physically hurt anyone.
But I’m back to where I was 2 years ago when I really wanted to scream my lungs out to the people who hurt me. Spit in their faces. Throw things. Go Incredible Hulk on them.
I guess it’s all those years of being nitpicked at by my narcissistic mother. By my selfish Xbf and his family. And my sisters.
I don’t care that it’s been 2 years and that I should be over it. I’m over it, when I say I’m over it. I’ve come to respect my brooding, my rage, I’ve found it’s a way of acknowledging myself.
I’m back to talking to myself, spitting at the mirror while hallucinating a tantrum…
In my defense, it’s been many months since it has last happened.
But to this day, I wonder how these people live with themselves. How. do. they. live. with. themselves. How do they laugh and spoil themselves? How do they buy themselves nice clothes and cars? How do they face themselves in the mirror? How do they accept being loved when they are so undeserving, truly ugly people? How? How? How?
The psychological abuse, I can’t forgive, I won’t forgive. They are unforgivable because they are not sorry. They always find excuses and will never look at me straight in the eyes: I’ve failed you. I should have done better by you.
They’ll always have an excuse: I was too frustrated with how I was treated myself, I had too much on my mind, too much work, etc. etc.
While those explain things, they do not excuse.
I can accept explanations AFTER a frank admission of wrongdoing, not before.
I blame my family for not showing me self-worth, not only for not showing me, but for ruining me too. For not showing me I was worth being treated better. That I was worth standing up for myself. That I should have chosen a better bf and that I deserved to be treated with the utmost respect.
The people who have hurt me, my mother, my sister, my X. I hope they get karma. But right now, they seem to be enjoying their life, their ego intact, thank-you-very-much. They do not question themselves. They think it’s all me and all in my mind.
I’m doing better than I was. But I’m not doing well. In fact, these days, I’m back in the gutter.
It’s not rational, it’s not even justified.
But trust me, I have to respect my rage and myself or things could get really ugly.