When frustrations are suppressed


Jesus, I’m feeling intense frustration choke my throat. I’m overwhelmed by the feeling of having to do something that I don’t want to, yet having no choice. 

I try to continue on with my reading, but the sensation cannot be suppressed. It continuously calls out for my attention, leaving me with a racing mind that focuses on everything but that which is sitting before me. Frustration wells up inside of me and I feel the desire to let out a yell of desperation, of help. I clench my fists and hold my breath, then break whatever I find in my hands. I throw anything and everything I can lay my hands on.  I grab hold of the doorknob and repeatedly slam the door shut in an attempt to yell “No! No, I don’t like this!” No matter how many times that door slams, it never shuts hard enough to satisfy my deep need to express. Exhausted yet partially relieved, I convince myself that that was all that I needed. “Now I’m better”, I deceivingly believe.

In reality, it was all imagined. No pencils were broken and no doors were slammed to my pleasure. Yet the amount of strength derived out of the necessity to express was violent and real – and that against myself. I had understood my obsessive frustrations to be the problem, an out of control anger that I shamefully had to deal with. Yet as I considered the envisioned scenario I realized that the pain was real. Through the images and seemingly real actions I began to understand that the true needs of my heart were manifesting in the only way possible. I was angry, I was trapped, and I was desperate to show my pain and to voice my “no”.

No one is forcing me nor prohibiting me from speaking. I no longer need to swallow my pain in order to be loved. I’m here, in a new now, but these old feelings chain my current reactions to memories from the past. My husband is not my enemy and no one keeps me on the voiceless, receiving end except myself. So I get myself out of the pit, put a name to my pain, and put a name to my needs. I take responsibility for my needs. I no longer have to slam doors, but rather they are all opening before me, providing new ways out.