Is there ever a place for rage?

I’ve been interacting with a certain coach for a number of years and I follow her on Facebook. She has been talking about a form of rage that she considers to be healthy. The term “sacred rage” is my own, but I haven’t wanted to talk about the concept because I find it frightening to think about letting my rage out. Because i have plenty. And it’s been bottled up for a LONG time. Fermenting…

Mostly i stuck with stoic. But as it happens, recently a friend I have been close to 30 odd yours decided to go all seriously jerk ass dude on me, for reasons that will never be clear. But it was more then enough to break my armor. Oopsie!

It went like this; first, we drove to a shopping center that I had exactly 0 desire to go to. I let him drive because my eyes had been dilated, and I’d not eaten in 20+ hours. That wasn’t too bad—despite the fact that I’d only ever let the psychopath handyman drive it before. We parked far from the Trader Joe’s because that’s my habit. I like walking. He knows this.

Well, when we were done eating (bad experience, but eyes and brain have resumed functioning) he was to now be the passenger again. As we approach the car, he said to me in a snotty voice “don’t you ever wash your car?” I was surprised, but let it pass because he knows I do, and, well, he’s my friend.

I beep the passenger side door open, and suddenly , this same friend of 30 odd years going off on me about how messy my car was (and it wasn’t, never has been) and how “every woman I know… blah blah blah“. WTF??

I was hurt, as I’d specifically bought hangers to hang the shopping bags so he’d be able to sit on the seat without my moving them. I had a store bag on the seat. A nice one.

I said something, but let that pass because, (again…he’s my friend. We’d had a fairly good meal at a hideous restaurant. His pick, my treat. Not fun. (The primary purpose of this entire visit was to have some fun. But I made the mistake of letting him do what he wanted to do and whether or not it was fun for me was apparently not part of the equation. My bad.)

But it didn’t stop there. Oh, no! We walked over to the Trader Joe (also in that shopping center and that’s one of the main reasons we had made the long drive to this particular place. Usually, we always walk everywhere. He knows that’s my thing. )

In this particular adventure, after dinner had we walked to the Trader Joe when I realized we don’t have the shopping bags. He says “OK I’ll walk back with you to the car.” Then he proceeded to have a conniption fit because I thought we were next walking back to the Trader Joe (and then back to the car.) This is not unusual. Now I’m being “ridiculous”. Again… WTF?

He’s never done anything remotely like this in my entire time of knowing him. He called it ridiculous and made it clear was very irritated. I was not expecting this. I don’t do well when blindsided.

So I put the bags back on the hook i bought FOR HIM, mind you, but this act requires that I wrestle with the bags to get them in or out of my car. Irritating, and strike three.

Then I finally wrangle the bags, up, put my arms on the roof of my car and say to this person “I really didn’t deserve that.“ I hadn’t. Well, that wasn’t enough for him. He had to turn into this bizarre person I had never met before and yell mean things at me. His face was contorted. I was in shock.

I’ve been through a lot lately—as he knows, and as many of you will also know if you have read my blog. So I lost it, and I let him have it at the top of my lungs with three choice words. The F word, followed by the usual word (you) and his name. I bellowed it. I put everything I had into it. He was not amused. (Duh.) I’ve lost it with him before, but only in wracking sobs. Long ago.

This was not like that. I hadn’t deserved it, and I’d had enough of this sh*t. He’s walked away, so get into my car, and I scream. Just “aaahhh” at the top of my lungs. No idea where he was, but I’m guessing he heard it. I’m guessing a LOT of people heard it.

I’m pretty steamed, but also shattered. I could not function for who knows how long. Eventually, I text him (after posting a bad Yelp review on the crap restaurant) and nothing. I call. Nothing.

I’m still a mess, I’m shattered. But I go all stoic at times like this, so I need to either call the VA crisis hot line, or go the hell home. I opted for home. (The last 2 times I called the crisis line, I was on it for an hour and a half. Also, there have, at times, been strange repercussions.) So when I’d recovered enough, I punched “home” into Maps, and let Apple Car Play get me the hell outta there. (Remember, we drove to the shopping center. I’ve no idea where the freeway is.)

But now it’s two days on and I’m starting to realize he have been very strange and very grumpy ever since I came back from Arizona and we got together here in California. I don’t know why—but I now see he’s been picking fights with me all along. I kept “going along” when he did this, because that’s been my life story. Go along to get along, suck up to people so they’ll be nice to me. I’m sure you can guess how well that worked.

Because my once dear friend had decided to stalk off, as he is wont to do, and because he didn’t respond to my text messages or my phone calls l, I left him there. Of course, in this day and age of Uber I doubt he had much trouble getting home. But the friendship is over, and as much as I’d like to understand what happened l, if I never learn I’ll be OK. But here’s the beauty part. I felt better than I have felt in 10 years. (For about 2 days.)

Was that sacred rage? I don’t know. I’m still working on it. I’ll keep you posted.