This is how I started feeling. Everything was going wrong….terribly wrong. I felt I would never be able to get anything right. I was getting fed up with life….with people and with myself.
There were people who were judging me, criticizing me and assuming a whole lot of trash about me. People who spoke out of turn and never bothered to apologize…and who managed to blame me for things I could never dream of, let alone do.
I’m will to change myself for others, but what do I do when I don’t know what they expect from me? I like things to be very clear and straightforward – and I don’t mind people telling me anything, but they don’t. That keeps the situation shrouded in mystery and I’m left feeling guilty and with the hopeless question – ‘what do I do next?’
Then there were those who felt they were being cruel to be kind. I felt like the poor priest Peter Gilligan who said - “I have no rest nor joy nor peace.”
I knew I was cracking under the strain of controlling my anger and I was afraid. Afraid of my own brutal strength and force and afraid of what anger is capable of doing to a person.
Besides this there was lots of crazy stuff happening in my life. I couldn’t do anything about this problem and that freaked me out. It took every ounce of my self-control and will power to stop myself from going crazy. I wanted to scream, cry…do anything at all. But my throat was too parched and I found all my tears had dried up even before they could reach the eyes.
I was inconsolable. I was guilty of so many things and deeds that I soon lost count. My friends say it wasn’t my fault, but the doubt persists in my head like a slow poison – what if…
I hope this phase doesn’t come again in my life…I know it may and I’ll have bear it like I just did - my own little secret suffering.
