Wrestling with Rage

I have always had a problem with extreme outbursts. As a child I nearly snapped my own dog's neck. I also shattered a plate of spaghetti when my emotions overwhelmed me. My men's group finally got to hear about my bathroom abuse when we met last Sunday. I have been able to keep my temper in check for the last few years, but lately I find that I am struggling with my old adversary - uncontrolled animosity.

The urge to lash out still surprises me. My day rolls along decently until some nondescript moment when a tiny inconvenience sends my moods into a rolling boil. Last Sunday (and even tonight to a lesser extent), it was my daughter playing the piano. How insane is that?!? Fortunately, I was able to keep myself in check last weekend, and tonight I never reached the stage of irrationality that tends to scare even me. I do know that I desperately need to be aware of these spikes in my emotions. As a person who has put a fist through a wall, a door and a kitchen cabinet (and attempted to do so recently in a bathroom), I can't afford to assume that "everything will be alright."

I do believe that this recent relapse of rage is connected to pushing myself more of late. I don't offer that insight as an excuse, but simply as an observation. I am attempting to learn my limits within the confines of narcolepsy. One of the best lessons of the past few months is that my boundaries change daily. The extent of my patience and energy is tied to my daily mood, my previous night's sleep, my previous day's work load, my upcoming schedule, my internal demands and expectations, my external demands and expectations, my wife and daughter's behavior, my sinus conditions, my cats, traffic and so many other things my head is literally spinning even pondering it. Now, that is the case for everyone, but I also have a condition that makes me exhausted as a starting point. Loading those other realities on top of narcolepsy is like packing nitroglycerin safely within cases of TNT. I still need to live my life, though.

If I simply retreat from the world, my depression will destroy me. I need to interact with the world. I need an outlet that lets me engage with others. I also need to work on recognizing my own signs and triggers. I must find the language that can nicely let others, particularly my wife and daughter, know that my daily stew is simmering or boiling or over running the pan. No one should be forced to endure my irrational outbursts, including me. At the same time, I must own the rage that is within me. Certainly, it is as much a part of me as the joy and sorrow that are far more endearing emotions. Denying my anger and ire is what gives them unnerving power. And, when I am painfully honest, it is a minor miracle that I don't spend a majority of my day feeling extreme frustration given the nature of my condition. Narcolepsy is AWFUL, and I have a right to be completely irrational at times because of how it screws up my life.

My rage scares my more than I care to admit. I need to keep confronting it, though. It will not go away, not can I deny its existence. Doing so will only ensure that I will eventually do serious harm to myself or someone else. Instead, I need to allow myself safe ways to experience all of my emotions. I need to connect with every part of myself. It stuns me that the longer I continue on this journey to find peace, the more distance it seems that I must cover. Isn't that the way these things always go, though?