Why I'm Angry

I've done much soul-searching to try to get at the root of my anger. For the past few months, I haven't really understood my anger. Sure, I could recall instances in my life that have made me angry, but I'd eventually conclude that I was over the hurt and had forgiven all parties involved.

But now I'm not so sure. I mean, in 99% of those instances, I feel like I have forgiven all to the best of my ability. But the anger is still there, ready to spring up without a moment's notice. And today, I'm going to be brutally honest and tell you, dear readers, why I'm angry.

I'm angry because for nearly 20 years, I've felt forced to live in silence about a wrong I suffered during my childhood. I'm angry at my parents who have basically pretended, in the years since I've told them, that said wrong did not occur and have discouraged me from talking about it. I'm angry that they did not offer to take me to counseling, even though they knew I was hurting. I'm especially angry at my mother, who once implied that the wrong was not what I had said it was.

I'm angry that I've had to bear the weight of this wrong almost entirely on my own. I'm angry that there has been, up to this point, no safe forum for me to discuss this wrong, even in counseling. I'm angry at the law that says certain wrongs discussed with a counselor have to be reported to the authorities. I don't want to report anything; I just want to deal with my issues! I'm angry that no one seems to understand that.

I'm angry at the nasty, manipulative bastard who turned my best friend in high school against me to the point that she hasn't spoken to me in years. I'm angry that I never stood up to him and allowed him to treat me and my other friends like crap on his shoe. Just thinking about this guy makes me want to put my fist through a wall. A concrete wall.

I'm angry because I feel like I'm the only person in the world making an effort to heal, change, and forgive. I'm angry that I feel obligated to change while others remain the same sticks-in-the-mud they've always been. I'm angry at the times I should have stood up for myself and didn't.

I'm angry because I have to raise a child in a world that's full of evil, injustice, lies, ignorance, and violence. I'm angry at all the selfish pricks who take advantage of the innocent every day.

I'm angry because I don't feel I have a right to be angry. After all, others live in situations far worse than mine.

I'm angry because I don't have the kind of control over life that I want to have. I just want to wake up one day and be the right person, full of grace and serenity, but that doesn't happen most of the time. Sometimes I roll out of bed just to realize that I'm back to square one. That makes me angry, too.

I'm angry that I'm 27 and still dealing with some of these issues. I'm afraid I'll still be dealing with them when I'm 37. Fear angers me, and I'm afraid I'll always be angry. I pray to God that won't be the case.

Thanks for reading.