There is a white hot rage in me, mixed in with a black tar rotting decay. A festering volcano, the afterbirth of trauma. Lack of control of internal emotional processes. This is a legacy of being overpowered, you really lose agency over yourself. At it’s worst, it is an ultimate loss of control, so-called madness, insanity. In it’s more mature manifestations, at least one can manage their outward behaviour, but the inner realms are lawless lands, where the past roams free and bleeds into the now, staining everything.
Times heals nothing. Going through the fire is what cauterizes, disinfects, and heals. And you cannot run through because then you are simply incinerated. You actually have to walk through. Slowly. It is a strange truth. I never thought I would have the strength to do this. To cut out the people who needed to be cut out, to speak the deeds that were done, to face the past and say no more.
Even as a child I knew my parents had to go, at some point. I always knew they were not for me. The clarity of this was so intense for so long, I’m not sure why it dissolved. Why did I feel like I needed them? The raw rage of youth was so wise, so true. When did I stop listening? I am not sure. I lacked vision when I was younger, the vision of truly escaping them. It was unimaginable. It was a freedom beyond mental conjuring. Rage is so valuable if we take what is best in it – the seed of truth. There is a reason we feel it. To understand this reason and plant this reason into our consciousness so we may reap the appropriate actions, this is how we can use rage.
You already know everything you need to know. Any tool from the outside is to help you get inside. Clarity is there. You just need to clean your vision. Or rather, clarity comes through cleaning vision, and you already have perfect sight.