thoughts on rage

Once upon a time, back in the early Jurassic period of my life, Sheba presented all of the regular crew with these little bottles of essential oil blends she'd whipped up herself in that Earth Mother/Voodoo Priestess way she had.

While I don't remember the actual blend of oils she used in mine, I do remember that I had to apply it at my temples and the soles of my feet. When one of the others asked her why the soles of the feet, she said it because I was often "walking rage".

Sadly, it was a pretty damn accurate assessment. No, make that present tense... it IS a damn accurate assessment.

I just seem to have this immense well of rage in me that so easily tapped into. It's just incredibly easy for me to go from calm to wrathful in very short order. Especially when I feel like I'm being ignored or when people annoy me.

It's not all the time though... sometimes I can control it easily (or at the very least, I can remain at the "gentle simmer" rather than the volcanic explosion), but other times it just comes out of nowhere and surprises even me. How the hell people around me deal with it I have no idea... other than just assuming that I'm being a dick.

I just wish I knew why. I mean most of the time I know what sets me off, but I have no idea why I have this smoldering furnace of rage at my core.

Because maybe if I knew the "why", I could make it stop.

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