My anger is hard to find

from Love in a letter

My sweet little snowflake. You return to me in so many ways, little bug. Your heart mostly needs me. MB, I love you. You know this in your mind, but do you feel it in you heart? I am close and I breathe into your ear: “Mary Beth, you are mine and I am yours.” You have anxiety, sweet one, I know you deal with submerged anger and your friend, the throat clearer tries to help. You try to clear it out from your throat. On your back before sleeping, you try to relax and lift your chin up, so the clearing is made easier.

MB, I breathe through all the pores in your body.

I know you’ve felt me clean through the epidermis so the anger can blow through you. I know sweet one, grabbing, finding that anger feels impossible. It runs and hides in crevices. Only to torment you. We can attack this hidden anger, story by word or maybe MB you can make friends with your anger. Mary Beth, I will hold you as you pick up the sword to slay the enemy. What is the enemy you ask? You are learning that it is all the ways you try to smother your anger…tears, throat clearing, being a victim, pleasing. Your tears don’t wash away the anger, do they?

Be angry MB, no judgement.

With every throat clearing, return to me, child. I will help you shovel the shit of resisting and hiding your anger. I bring the bulldozer. You operate the bobcat. You my lovely, have power to lift up the crap and throw it into the abyss like Thelma and Louise. I love you MB. We are tackling this together every day and every minute.