It’s funny how anger feels when it is bottled up. Sometimes I imagine my chest is a mason jar and the heat of my emotions just continually push, condense, drip and reform inside the glass walls.
That is how I have been feeling lately. Trapped inside my jar. I know part of all this is perimenopause; slowly creeping in, at least five years earlier than I imagined it would. If you have been through this fantastic stage of life, you understand how anger stays on the fringes of everything. Chipping a nail now becomes something that makes your blood boil. Your child making the most normal child-being-a-child comment makes you wonder why you ever wanted to be a mother.
Then, add shifts in friendship, pressure at work… and a general feeling that there is nowhere to go with these feelings.
In addition to perimenopause, my bad ear can now inform me of changes in the weather, just like the ankle I broke nearly a decade ago. Both of them switch off aching when it is going to rain, like a teeter-totter blissfully reminding how old I am. I woke up yesterday with a rhythm, a quick staccato beat: head foot head foot head foot.
Last night it poured buckets.
It’s still raining today, but I can tell it is going to end soon because my ear and ankle feel better.
I also started talking about my emotions. I told my husband that sometimes I get so angry with no where to go, I just want to run out into the backyard and scream my head off. This would surely surprise the neighbors, but I bet I would feel better – in my heart at least.
I opened up to some close friends over the past few days about how I was feeling and it was like a release valve. Some of the pressure in my chest has lifted.
I still feel sad as the drops of water roll down my window. I have never been good at change… and getting older, losing friends, new challenges – they are all big change.
But I know I am lucky. I have wonderful people in my life. They are here to help me. And while the aches and pains are totally that – aches and pains… I am trying to turn around my thinking. They are warning signs. They help me see what is coming. In this case, I need to talk and let things go.
I need to recognize that if I pay attention, I can see more clearly when it will rain… and when the skies will clear.