Tear
A Reading from the Anatomy of a Beast
I always thought that I had felt anger before.
But now, I truly do feel it.
A tingling burn in my chest.
A prickle across my skin.
Nailbeds hot and knuckles locking.
A sadness so deep and so wounding that my gums itch to bite down into something just to feel it tear.
What I had felt before was shame.
What I feel now consumes me and will not let me rest.
Through the years humans have tried to portray the primal rage we are capable of as some sort of majestic destructive conclusion to a character’s struggle. In most media its represented by hysterical strength- the protagonist finally getting angry enough they can defeat the villain. Overcoming the final obstacle with a deep seeded anger that glows with such strength and control it is almost inspiring- motivating even.
Consuming these stories through various media, I too thought that my rage would burn with a pure white hot energy, almost divine, and a feat to truly witness. That I would be in control and the feelings I had would be righteous.
We have been lying.
It came to me at a time of great sorrow, a culmination of years of seemingly justified temper flare-ups, whether driven by embarrassment or a sense of unworthiness it was all just a flash in the pan. Nothing in my time here on earth had prepared me for the absolute unfiltered rush of emotions.
Washing over me like waves, I couldn’t keep my mind focused on anything, my skin felt like it needed to be ripped off, I couldn’t stand how my veins felt. Every sensation agitating me further. I squeezed my finger tips to help rid the strange tingling I felt under my nails. Clenching my teeth just to put pressure on my gums, muscles tensing to try to flush out this sense of being made out of acid. My scalp felt like it was covered in ants, skittering across my skull. I wanted to scream, I felt like I was feeling everything with no end in sight. I froze, completely afraid to feed what was growing in my mind. Concentrated violence.
I stared at the ceiling as I lay in the silent dark. A battle rattling between my temples. Fighting the urge to lash out. In my mind images of me throwing my body around grabbing anything around me with such force just to crush it to ease whatever pressure was building inside. A confusing montage of all of the possibilities. I had never been so angry. It was a new and frightening feeling.
I honestly do not remember how I calmed down, but what I do remember is the vow I made to myself, is that I never wanted to feel like that ever again. What I experienced that night was something no one should ever harness. It is a small flame in all of us, the goal is to not feed it so much that we lose sight of the preciousness of peace and vitality. Letting yourself get to that point is not as awe-inspiring or powerful as you would think. It is what makes humans ultimately and utterly vulnerable and ignorant.