I have been doing one write up a day for fourteen days straight now and I couldn’t have been prouder because I never thought that I could do it. I’m aiming to do this for twenty-one days straight because I heard somewhere that in order for something to become a habit, you have to be able to do it for twenty-one consecutive days. Now that I’ve hit the midline, I feel like I’m getting limited topics to write about as the days go by. That’s bad news for my writing, but that’s good news for my mind because although I still have some ideas that I play with that I could use as material for my write ups, most of the heavy-hitters have been written already. And now I feel like my insides have been scrubbed clean and left raw. It has been such a release because I always have a lot to say, but I lose my nerve right before I get to say them in front of people and so they settle at the bottom and get bottled up.
Some of the sentiments I have written here weren’t supposed to see the light of day. I have always thought that they were meant to be kept out of embarrassment or out of modesty. But I have learned not to care anymore and I feel like I have gradually changed because of that.
I am not claiming that writing everyday has cleared up my mind or has eliminated my problems. On the contrary, I still get anxious, I still get worried when I remember something that’s important to me, I still struggle with my heart on what I should do, but when I sit myself to write, all of those go backstage and then there is this moment of clarity where I only have to focus on what it is I should be delivering across.
There are still somethings buried inside me that I cannot write about because they are too personal and too disrespectful to the people involved if I wrote them down here. But that’s okay, there are other ways to channel the rage.
Haven’t we at some point or another, nurtured the rage that we feel? We keep it bottled up and it grows in the dark recesses of our hearts until it has grown so big that we simply cannot just let it out because the consequences of letting it all out are far bigger than the rage we have nurtured. So it just sits there, in the darkness of your heart, waiting to pounce once it finds an unguarded moment. And when we let it out, we feel weak and meek and embarrassed afterwards, penitent even, for even showing that much emotion. And I think the reason why we feel embarrassed is because we have demonstrated to other people that we are not the ones in control of our emotions, rather, it is us who are being ruled over. It is embarrassing because it seems we are not in control of our own faculties. If you cannot control your mind, then who controls it?
I have tried many avenues in order to distract my growing rage. For the most part, I am able to keep it in check because my heart is calm most of the time. But underneath the calmness and the attractive turquoise of the waters of my heart, just beneath the surface, my dark, dark rage, sits in wait. That is why sometimes, I don’t find it hard to get angry because it doesn’t take a lot of distance for it to travel to the surface. And during those times when I lose it, I remember the Incredible Hulk when he said, “That’s my secret. I’m always angry,” and I smile to myself because truer words could not have been spoken for me. But just as it doesn’t take a lot for it to come out, it also goes back to its hiding place just as quickly once the stressor is gone. I honestly don’t know how to quell the rage; maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. It’s still a part of the human emotions and thus a part of the human experience. Maybe we’re all meant to live just a little bit mad.