Random Acts of Violence

I feel so angry today. I couldn’t even explain what it is I’m angry about. There’s a miniature perfume bottle shaped like an elephant on the mantle and I keep imaging what it would be like to reach over, pick it up and hurl it through the window.

I’m wishing I had a punching bag. On my way home the other evening, I dreamt of driving my car at full speed into a guard rail. Here’s the thing. I don’t actually feel like I have the right to be angry about anything. Home, work, friends and family are all in varying degrees of “fine” and those things that aren’t perfect are out of my hands.

I know I’d feel better if I could just find the energy to work on the new story I have in my head. I’d read it and be proud of putting something new out into the world, but destruction is easier than creation.

I’m starting to feel calmer already, just ranting in writing here. The story is taking shape in my mind. My shoulders are dropping. The glass elephant is safe.

Have you ever felt like this? What did you do to make it go away? Have you ever trashed something  just to make yourself feel better?

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