Anger feels powerful.
Self-righteousness feels good.
Righteous anger? It’s addictive. No wonder so many of us want to live in that particular emotional combination. I love it. I can work myself right out of a big bad sad by ranting at the injustice of [fill in the blank]. I’m so good at those one-sided conversations, the ones where I know just want to say, and I’m clearly right, and I choose my words like knives and fling them.
Uuuuuugh it feels good.
Until you do it for real, and see that your word-knives landed in an actual person. Even that part can feel good, for a while. Because that’s the point, isn’t it?
Anger’s usually a cover for hurt. You hurt me, I’m going to hurt you back. It feels good to win. It feels better to be powerful than wounded.
Knife knife knife.
Word-knifing doesn’t mean you’re wrong, persay. Just means you took your right(eous)ness and made it a weapon.
So much of that going around.
So much of that coming from me, in both real and imaginary interactions.
I’m talking myself down from doing it again. There’s a message I need to respond to. I want to say so many things. I have so many words.
Anger can be exhilarating.
Acceptance can be heavy.
Both emotions are part of me being okay but I still have to choose what to do with them. I like being the kind of person who stands up for herself, is bold, takes no shit. I don’t like being the kind of person who throws knives (even figurative ones) at someone else.
I think I’d rather find another way to feel powerful.