rage

Blind rage is all I feel. My jaw clenches so tight my teeth hurt and all of my muscles are so tight, I’m shaking. The rage has not visited me in months but it is familiar and welcomed. Adrenaline courses through my extremities and the rage tells my brain to kill, hurt, kill, hurt, hurt, make them hurt, kill them with your bare hands. I let the rage take control because I cannot handle this part of my life. I wonder if this is how murderers feel just before they beat someone to death or strangle them until their pulse stops or stab them so many times that they get soaked in their victim’s blood. This is the rage I feel and I love this rage. I scream and curse and punch and growl and clench and break.

I breathe. The oxygen fills my lungs and as it leaves my body, the rage starts to go with it. Breathe in. Breathe out. Less rage. No, come back! I need you in my life, rage, please don’t leave me; I’m lost without you. Breathe in. Breathe out. Less rage. Noooo! You’re almost gone, I just need you for a little while longer. Breathe in. Breathe out. Hey, I have my own thoughts. Jesus loves me and I love Jesus. Why was I so hateful? Why did I hurt those I love?! 

I cry. Jesus, forgive me, for I have sinned. In my anger I sinned; I committed murder with my thoughts. I welcomed the rage when I should have asked for Your help. I weep. I breathe. Breathe in. Thank You for life, Jesus. Breathe out. Thank You for this breath of life. Breathe in. Breathe out. The calm enters my life. Thank You for forgiveness, Lord. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Normalcy sets in. Guilt sets in. Who am I? What sort of monster am I?

Rage is just beneath the surface of my façade.