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I was angry. All the time. My anger was not directed at anyone in particular. I was not the kind who would take it out on others. My anger was just stagnant, seething and simmering within me, like molten metal in a cauldron.
I was angry. All the time. My anger was not directed at anyone in particular. I was not the kind who would take it out on others. My anger was just stagnant, seething and simmering within me, like molten metal in a cauldron. It showed in my face, in my eyes.
I have had strangers stopping me in my tracks and asking me why I looked so furious. I would just laugh it away. But it was exhausting, draining and dilapidating this state of mind, and I did not know how to deal with it.
All this boiled over to the surface after years of being insecure and helpless. And scared, yes, very scared. In the past, I had people breaching my boundaries, invading my privacy.
I did not have any agency over my life. All this and more made me a social cripple, riddled with anxiety and low esteem.
Then, one day, I broke free from all that. I was free and I am now. I must rightly feel relief, if not happiness. Likewise, I ought to feel gratitude for the support I have been receiving from family and friends. But, I realized all that remained with in me after the trauma was anger.
Why was I angry?
Who was I angry with?
“You might need a closure or at least acknowledgement of what you had gone through,” a few well-meaning friends advised.
“That would make you feel better,” they said. But, deep down, I knew that it did not bother me. I did not, do not, seek apology or reconciliation. I was clear about that part, at least. However, there was something else making me restless and angry all the time.
“Maybe you need to forgive,” said a close friend said.
“I already did that,” I said. It was true. People who hurt me did not know better.
“Have you forgiven yourself?” he asked, and that was the moment I realized where my anger stemmed from.
All through the ordeal, which had lasted for years, I did not stand up for myself. I failed to recognize manipulation and mental abuse. I was blind to oppression. All this despite being well-educated and fairly independent and outgoing.
I had let myself down and never forgave me for that – for lacking a spine, for letting people walk all over me, for letting things go that far, that bad. Not only that, but I need to forgive myself.
Once I knew the fight was within me, I am now slowly moving towards resolution. I am trying to be easy on myself. After all, I did not know better, too. It is definitely not an easy process, but I am taking baby steps towards it, making the self-aware me be less angry, less scathing.
For those of you who are struggling like me, taunting your own past self, I say, “Let her be. She had suffered enough.”
Image source: Still from Manmarziya, edited on CanvaPro
A brief introduction to the writer
Sarveswari Saikrishna is a short story writer, currently working towards her MFA Creative Writing degree from Writer’s Village University. Two of her works have appeared in the Literary read more...
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Rajshri Deshpande, who played the fiery protagonist in Trial by Fire along with Abhay Deol speaks of her journey and her social work.
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