And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair. ~ Kahlil Gibran

Thursday, February 18, 2010

The Rage

I woke with my Rage riding my back, clouding my vision, and filling my ears with the poison that is it's own particular brand of evil.

The house is a pit. Partly my fault, partly Mr. Barefoot and the sprouts' fault. But I can't stand it. And I am furious. I try to clean, and Little Sprout is underfoot wanting to play in the mop water or stealing the broom and dustpan. Spiderwebs hang low on the basement ceiling. I try to clean them up, and their clinging strands fall on my exposed arms. I scream like a girl and spend 20 minutes scrubbing the memory of them off my skin.

It is not a good day, no matter how much I try to breathe and be calm.

I look around at all the crap we have, and I want to rent a dumpster and just toss all of it. Every last memento of things we have done, every last piece of our past lives. I don't want them. I want the house to be the way it was when we moved in: full of possibilities, and not much else.

I think about going to work tonight, and the Rage whispers in my ear that I should just call and quit rather than go in for a 2 hour meeting that will accomplish the same as all the others before it: nothing. Reasoning with the Rage is useless, so I do my best to ignore it, reminding myself that poor wages are better than none, and that once I get through school I will be able to at least make enough moolah to make up for the inconvenience of working outside the home. Sometimes I believe what I tell myself, sometimes I don't.

Just thought y'all would like to know....


Wendy said...

I can relate to how you feel. When I feel that Rage, it almost incapacitates me, and it's hard to see beyond the little nigglings inside my head. It's like the *normal* me, the person who I think I really am, is being held captive by this person I don't know, and I end up saying and doing some pretty destructive things.

If you can get some sun, which I know, this time of year and with the house needing cleaning is difficult to do (believe me, I can feel you pain about the house being trashed - that's the norm rather than the exception at my house and it drives me mad!), but it really does help.

Thinking of you ... :).

Kelli said...

Hi hunny

(((Big hugs))). Mad feeds mad!

I didn't know you were in school. What are you going for?

Maybe you really SHOULD get rid of some stuff (when you are in a better state ;) ) I found that the book Your Money or Your Life is what inspired me down that path.

Pick up a little treat on your way to work :)

barefoot gardener said...

I love you guys!!!!

Wendy- It is SO WONDERFUL to know that I am not the only one who feels that terrible rage. You put it exactly right, that the "real" me is held hostage by rage that seems to have nothing to do with what I really think or feel. It seems to have it's own identity, and it is so strong!

Kelli- I LOVE that book!... I am not really in school yet. I have just decided that I will be going. Now that taxes are done, I can do my FAFSA and all, and figure out where to go from here. I am still waffling a bit about what I wanna go for, but I will figure it out eventually. ;)

Lisa said...

Oh, boy! I see I need to rush out there with large quantities of cheesecake and Mountain Dew!! I am so sorry that Rage has got you in such a loving embrace. I mean, a death grip!

Oh And getting dumpster is quite thrilling! Stud Muffin got me one for my Chirstmas gift the year we moved to TN. We filled it up in 3 days! It felt sooooo good!!

Stephanie said...

Thats where I am about now with a super full house. Hugs.

Lisa said...

Yo, girl. I think I heard Rage cry Uncle, like, last week! Let it up to run back to its Mommy. You've belittled it enough and it promised to leave you alone. In fact, I think I heard it mutter this morning,"Oh, Sh**! She's awake!"