#rage
Have you ever experienced blinding rage?
In the presence of my colleagues and friends I have been, sad. Depressed? Definitely. Upset? Never happened. Matter of fact, I can’t recall being angry. I don’t know what being on that middle tier of anger even feel like. But rage? Oh yea, been there.
Two times, that’s the number of times I have flown into rage. Scene: imagine corporate Jamaica, office etiquette and protocols resembling those of corporate life from the 1950’s and 60’s. That was the type of environment I worked in for a good and long ten (10) years. Keep this in mind...
The first time I experienced red hot rage was in my early 20’s on the front steps of one of the most prominent corporate institutions in Jamaica. Thanks to three (3) lovely angels for saving me from my self. Imagine buttoned up, buxom ladies, well manicured nails and faces MUA’d to death, in mid-calf pencil skirts, pantyhose and two (2) and three (3) inch heels. These angels gave me one of those under arm grab and run - whisked me off the scene. It was like a movie, I promise. The second incident happened in my early 30’s. Although it seems there may be a forming trend, I believe I am safe in my early 40’s. It took a while but I learnt, it’s better to play the laughing idiot than become someone’s cell-mate in need of anger management.
There is nothing that can prepare you for being embroiled in rage. When it hits your surroundings, the presence of the people none of it matters. What both experiences taught me is, I can feel it building under the surface. The tension starts in my chest, my throat constricts a sudden pressure hits me in the back of the head, at which point all I can remember is my eyesight going dark.
For quite some time, tension has been in the air and building, what we are experiencing in 2020 with yet another cry of #blacklivesmatter is the culmination of mounting frustration. What the world is observing unfold with the protests for yet another case of police brutality, is the voice of the disenchanted and disenfranchised.
The proverbial emotional land mine of blind rage. A pressure valve. What unfathomable outcomes happen when the pressure gauge goes unchecked?
