I wasn't really aware of any kind of rage brewing under my skin this morning after I woke up, but somewhere between the mall parking lot and a red mini van, a episode occurred. I was beeped at as I was backing out of my slot in the huge concrete palace that is the mall parking ramp. I fully realize she was cruising doing 30 mph in that grey on grey cave, and she had ever right to honk as I was beginning my escape. Somehow this simple beep, sent me over the edge. I was mad. Yelling, cursing, blaspheming, all followed for several blocks. I hated her, and I wanted her to know it. Or was I really upset about something else? I try to keep an eye on my feelings; processing and directing them accordingly. Not in a repressed, stuffing, this girls gonna blow sort of way. Nononononono. More of a hmmm I feel bad, what's this about? what do I need? sort of way. That lady allowed me to tap into something much deeper than what I had been struggling this week to sort out on the surface.
Surprisingly, I feel much better than I have all week. Should I make yelling at the top of my lungs a weekly therapy?
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