Seven days into this quest of mine, I came upon a true test for myself. Instead of being racked with boredom, I was pained with stress so deep that it made me physically ill and had I not been the calm and composed Christian I am, may have caused me to do harm, either verbally or physically.
I’m thankful today that I have my mother who can talk me down from rage and help me see myself in a different colour. I was livid this evening, as I am still quite livid now, but I realize that it’s not at the person – my former assistant – nor is it at the situation – me putting my neck out there for him, only for him to display utmost immaturity at my expense – but what had me in a rage so strong that I momentarily saw stars and a pain started to ache in my stomach, up through my chest and around my back, was that I was wrong. I had made claims about something and I had been certain and, yet, I was wrong. This fact alone is the cause of my rage; sure, correct, straight-forward and knowledgeable to the point of arrogance Dorienne was somehow proved incorrect.
I said as I left first-job today, that I didn’t care about this little test of mine and that to de-stress I was going to sit in front of my TV and watch old shows and then play Rock Band until I couldn’t see straight any longer and today of all days, I think I would have had the perfect excuse for it. But in a moment I can only call providential clarity, I told myself that tomorrow, I’d be so much angrier that I’d let anger drive me from a goal that I would probably have a stroke at 26 from the anger piled on top of the anger.
I did tonight what I set to do which was have a little dinner and read. It took quite a bit of pacing in my bedroom and in the kitchen and two lengthy talks with my mother and a friend, but I eventually calmed to fall in and out of the fictive dream of my book and eventually begin writing.
Normally, when I’m upset, I can write out any emotion and all will be well once I’m done, but when I’m livid…so full of rage that I can feel my blood moving, I’m not capable of enough rational thought to even remember who Damen Eisengardner is. Like my mother says, I’ve got to find a way to manage this rage; find a way to pump it into something creative or at least useful instead of bottling for the sake of a composed demeanor.
I wrote 357 words tonight (through the door, shutting it behind her) and I
think know what helped bring me to the calm I have currently, is not the music playing softly beside, but because I ended tonight’s session with a meager stroll through the bible, looking for quotes.
I was a little ashamed that I really couldn’t name any off the top of my head, but I’ve long since decided that memorizing bible quotes and passages serves me no purpose. I had to memorize Psalm 23 and the Beatitudes to pass the second grade, but I can recite Psalm 23 now because I heard a gospel song for it and I can barely remember where in the bible the Beatitudes are (fine, I looked it up: Matt 5:3-12).
I have my favorite passage of course (Luke 15:3 – the parable of the lost sheep) and if I think really hard, can remember the line which makes me excited to be a Christian at this point my life (Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost) and makes me a tear a little when I think of it, but I’ve rarely seen a ton of value in memorizing verses. Perhaps I should, though.
It was not until I started to search for and read these quotes I used to show some banter and characterization that the rage finally started to ebb and I started to feel some peace.
Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost. Yeah, I like it. I like it a lot.