They told me I must be small
I must diminish so He could grow
Their voices overwhelmed me
A cloud suffocating by day
A fire burning at night
I grew still and small
Waiting to be saved
I must decrease so He can increase
They taught me my spirit was defiant
I must tame my darkness so He could shine
Their voices sliced me down
I cut off the pieces
That made me too wild
I pruned and trimmed my branches
Waiting to be whole
The tree You cursed has withered
Then I ran
I turned over their tables, exiled from their temples
They told me the further I fled
The unhappier I would be
They lied, and does not the Lord detest lying lips?
Still and small, my spirit survives
Scarred and sacred, she still sings.
So this was a bad week. But not in a way I really expected. I didn’t get paralyzed. I didn’t have to take off any work. Instead, I got angry.
Life has been kind of rough lately emotionally, and on top of that, I had to deal with the new stress of trying to get paperwork in for my new job as an online writing tutor. Something had to be notarized, so I drove myself to the bank like a big girl, and presented my paperwork. The guy looked really confused and tried to make a joke by saying he didn’t know what the word “attesting” meant. Reassuring. He then said that he needed another piece of paper that I left behind by accident, and that I had to get it, even though it’s available online and is still completely legit. That derailed me a little. I did as I was told, and came back, only to realize that there was an issue with my forms of ID. I tore apart the apartment looking for what I needed and just felt really, really angry. Like, I wanted to smash things angry. I haven’t felt that way in…a long time. I used to get angrier before I was on medication, but with medication, strong feelings of any kind are kind of muted. That’s just how the med game is played. This particular situation just got me really mad, but it seemed to be a little better and so I went back to the bank for the third time. Again, I was sent away. There was a spot on the form that asked for start date, but I didn’t know when that was, that’s usually something that gets figured out once the company knows you can work for them. I wanted to destroy everything.
Anger makes my body sick. This morning I got hit by a stomach-related illness that I knew was because of stress, literally nothing else, and I couldn’t go to the Salvation Army as I had planned. That reaffirmed that I’m just a really bad morning person – everything is bad for me in the morning. (Note to self: find a way to be Jesus’ hands and feet, but only after 2 pm-ish. ) Chris had to take all my stuff back to the bank and because he’s such a swell guy, the banker agreed to FINALLY notarize it, even though I was “technically supposed to be there.” Well, tough beans, I literally can’t move and this had to be mailed like yesterday, and it’s all your fault anyway.
Anger. It’s unfamiliar to me. I don’t really know how to manage it. When I get depressed, I just sleep. When I get really anxious, I usually get sick. Anger is a weird sick/smash/murder everything feeling. It’s an animal I do not recognize.