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Monday, June 4, 2018

Scene 22 - I Fought with My Parents


**********Scene 22 - I Fought with my Parents**************

I fought with my parents,

a lot.

And it didn’t always make sense -
I remember one time -
she could see that the fight was going Nowhere so she 
Ended it by going into her office and closing the door.
And I was Not okay with this! because!…!  Because!…!
Well, because I could see she was 
Kinda right and that was, kinda, being an idiot…

but I wanted her to know why I was being such an Idiot, it was because She…!

And I Stormed into that office, not sure if I was going to apologize or Scream at her -

- and she’s sitting at her desk,
glasses in one hand, tissue in the other…
red eyes staring at…nothing…

She looks at me,
“What.  Lethan, what.”

And I knew that both my parents did Try to work with me,
and they loved me,
and they were trying to help,
and I wanted to work with them, but They just Refused to see things My way!

I didn’t want much! just things a Normal seventeen year old boy wants to do…

****************Commentary***************************

Since receiving brain injury, I have found RAGE to be the most terrifying experience.

There is no denying that I had a temper before my accident - I could sometimes get very angry very quickly - but after the accident the anger changed…somehow became…more…more invasive, more dominate, more insistent - not insisting on solving a problem but insisting that I must WIN the fight - it became an intoxication that takes over the body and soul - divorcing the body from the mind - divorcing it from Reason - releasing dangerous, violent passions…

It begins as a poison - rage seeping into my conscious with venomous stealth - inspired by an annoyance or misunderstanding that may or may not (more likely not) have any lasting consequences upon my life - the conflict could be but a brief hiccup in immediate plans or intentions, but still - bit by bit - the rage dominates my being - forcing self-awareness and self-control into an aether where they cannot influence my actions - forcing my reason - to passively? observe while my physical form acts in an appalling manner.  I question the term passively? because emotions are rarely “passive” - and this Reason - that at times of sanity seeks to remain in control of my body - is observing an absurd rant or scream or thrashing - devastating passion is in control and Reason and is forced to watch - it remains aware - and thus - for what might be termed a reasonable cause - my reason becomes Angry.  

This anger is the same - or at least similar - to the anger of disgust - what comes froth when we witness a behavior that brings shame to humanity - when we hear of or learn of or see an abusive politician-parent-spouse and we say “Fuck That Person - that Piece of Shit - that Embarrassment to Life.”  The Reason that is me sees this - and I Am that person.

That is who I have become - in That moment or passionate anger - I am not who I know myself to be - I am this Other - This…

And I become even more angry - the anger feeds itself - self-anger stirred with self-pity - irrationality dominates reality and this self-anger devolves into self-hatred - further feeding the beast - and so my physical form responds “Well I’m shit anyway” and seeks even more destruction - meanwhile - standing alone - watching - outside the chaos of reality - Reason cringes and cries - my physical form writhing until the fuel for the rage has expired.  Then Reason must return - attempt to deal with the results of the actions it observed - perhaps creating a false justification - perhaps attempting to move on, trying to deny that I actually did what was just witnessed - perhaps hoping words can atone for actions.

I write this and cry.

I hate this, yet this is part of me.

Although (as said above) I’ve always had a temper, after the accident it changed - and I recognize that my brain injury is likely a contributing factor to this self-destructive cycle.  This is a reason for my temper, this is a cause - but Fuck if I Dare to use it as an excuse.  This rage is my responsibility and I must manage it.

Anger after brain injury is relatively common, and there are suggestions of how to manage rages (for one such article, check out https://www.brainline.org/article/anger-following-brain-injury) - the technique I have found most useful is - when I begin to become aware of even the hints of a rage - get out of the situation and take some time alone to cool down - let reason take control - and then return to the situation.  The problem is that I don’t always catch the warning signs quickly enough.  Still, I think it is important that I am trying, though I don’t think merely “trying to be better” excuses any rage.  If a person has rage issues, it is that person’s responsibility to find help.

While preparing to write this, I found a host of articles and websites that discuss dealing with anger after brain injury - and this is all important information - but I found nothing that describes the introspective experience.  This blog is about storytelling, and I want to share my experience to try and add something new to the conversation.  Please - if you have any anger control issues - share your experience below.  You are welcome to share control techniques, but I am also interested in the personal experience of rage - this is the area I feel not enough has been written about.

Also, in that light, if you know of any articles, books, or lectures that discuss the introspective experience of anger after TBI, I would appreciate being made aware of them.

Thank you for taking the time to read.  Please leave comments below.