bookofmirrors | Fears and Changes, Part Two

A few weeks ago, due to a last minute schedule change, I went to therapy by myself. Pam, of course, took advantage to try to get me to release some emotions. I keep thinking I need to learn to express anger. That it's all about my anger, that if I could just discover how to be pissed off, my life would get a lot better. Of course, that's the thing I find hardest to do. And the thing I fight the most, even though I try to stop myself from doing so. Fighting the anger is so natural, I'm just now learning to recognize when I do it. Stopping the fight is another matter entirely. So, anyway, we were (unsuccessfully) exploring this once again, when she changed tactics on me. Clever, evil therapist bitch. :)

I was lying on the bed, face up, which is her usual kicking and punching pose (supposed to let the emotions out by moving physical energy through the body and all that), when she says to put my hands above my face, and act like I'm scared. I'd seen her use this tactic before at some of the group stuff, but never done it myself. I barely got into the pose before I was bursting into tears, not even really knowing why. Every time I tried to get into this pose, I broke down.

I'm SCARED. I'm not even sure of what, exactly, but I'm damn sure scared of SOMETHING.

This kinda surprises me. I try to do courageous things all the time. Hell, writing this shit down for the world to see, even comment on, is one of those things I'm doing as a calculated act of courage. Every time I look hard at myself and my motives, and figure out, much less SHARE, what's going on in my head, that's courage. I sometimes go out of my way to provoke people. I weather outbursts like

blckwngdorcl had the other night without backing away. I do a lot of things that I consider courageous, at least for me; things that I probably wouldn't have done a year ago. So what the hell am I so afraid of?

I have no idea. I think I'm still afraid of my parents. That's sort of nebulous at this point, but it's probably the main thing. Maybe I'm afraid of losing myself, as I wrote in my last post. Hard to tell.

But, maybe it's not anger that's my biggest problem. Maybe it's fear. Maybe they're both equal. I have no idea. But it's certainly giving me something to contemplate.