That Old Creeping Feeling

I imagine that the phenomenon of “creeping anything” is not new to anyone and happens to the best of us. Creeping fear, creeping depression, creeping cynicism; they are all insidious and just as infectious as any other strains of emotional decay, but cynicism is one of the worst and most difficult to recover from next to depression. It prevents rebounding from one’s mistakes or problems with any kind of grace and presents a unique problem for modern people in modern times.

I have been finding more and more often as of late that depression, rage, and worthlessness all live inside me. They are me, and I am them more often than not. It hurts, wounds, and pains me and others. The worst part is that the advice of others is often so trite, so vapid and airy that it comes across as condescension or ignorance. The hippie girl telling people “you can’t be unhappy doing yoga on the side of a mountain while watching the sunrise” is no more informed about the intricacies of the feelings of unbridled hate or infinite sadness (or the lack thereof) than a blind-and-deaf pedestrian venturing onto a busy boulevard.

They certainly don’t deserve the treatment they generally get from people who are in these states. I should know, I have been both the target and the source of various amounts of these scenarios. I never know what to do about my anger. I never know when or if it’s ever justified. I never know the how or why of a great deal of the happenings that occur to me, just that I am simply a passenger in this ride.

The most obvious method of defeating this anger that I have employed is to simply not engage it; to deny that it even exists in the first place. This ends-up never working, as it builds and builds in the back of my mind until it becomes too unbearable to keep inside any longer. When it comes out, it obliterates everything in its path: relationships, jobs, finances, everything. I know I should be a lot happier, a lot less angry about what goes on in and in proximity to my life… But I always feel like I’m the only person that cares or that is having a difficult time with things.

I know that a lot of that hate and that anger exists in large part because of my prior life experiences. I know for a fact that I still have a lot of baggage to work through, and some of it I don’t even want to acknowledge that I have, but I have to admit it and work on it at some point. I just don’t know how it will help me and whether or not I will ever be “normal”.

I just want to be free of this anger and misery. I want to be able to learn and be free. So much that I want, so much I feel like I will never have.

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