Dear Anger,
You have been here these days which made me uneasy. I thought you’re gone, now you show up almost every day–uninvited. It is normal to have you around, but I can’t help but bump into you and that messes my day. Not only that, but you also corrupt every good in me like a virus killing good cells. Your presence penetrates my head, you influence my thoughts, emotions, and actions badly. Anger, you overwhelm my heart with hate… it pushes away those I love, it creates a circle that keeps me away from all that is good outside and locks me in a solitude of sadness, sadness that turns to coldness, because you leave joy, peace, and love with so little space that I can’t even feel their warmth. You are destroying me. I wish you’ll vanish!
-Naivz
– – – – – – – –
Dear Naivz,
How dare you! I never wished to come here; don’t you know it’s your fault? It’s not me, it’s you! I hope you get it, how you see me is wrong, I am not what your eyes merely see. Can’t you sense who really am I? I became like this because you have ignored me before when I was bleeding, almost dead, terribly sad and drained but you were busy on chasing your dreams. You paid me no attention.
Now see what I have become, witness what your negligence has transformed me into a harmful being. You did not welcome me before; you were ashamed of me. I pled your attention but gave me a blank face–you acted like blind and deaf. I was wounded but you abandoned me. The saddest thing was, I did not die. I just slept, quarantined for a long time, kept in a dark cold corner so no one could notice. I thought that’s it, and you thought we’re over by running away? NO!
Now I am here. Can’t you still recognize the real me? I am PAIN, I was your ignored pain. Too bad, forgetting can’t wipe my existence.
–Pain, a.k.a Anger
Unexpressed feelings never die, they are buried alive and come forth later in uglier ways. –
-Anonymous, Mental Health
People have no anger problem. People have a pain problem. And that pain is most often unlabeled, unwelcomed and unprocessed sadness. –
–Jonathan Trotter | C.S. Lewis, Sadness and Pain