“I am not my control”

Project Description:

Think of an emotion or a feeling. Now multiply it by ten. Amplify it. Blow it completely out of proportion. Imagine a happiness that radiates from inside your heart, that glows and warms you all the way down into your toes. Imagine a stress that feels like someone has hold of your lungs whilst simultaneously banging an anvil against your head. Imagine an anger that boils your blood, pumps your heart a mile a minute, creates a rage inside of you that feels like a ticking time bomb about to explode. This is how I experience emotion. It comes in waves, almost effortlessly guiding me through an extreme range of ups and downs that can alter my mood without a moment’s notice.

When you feel like this all the time, it gets exhausting. And when I get angry, it is without a doubt, the ugliest part of my personality. So I hide it, conceal it with smiles – I will myself to change my emotions, a conscious effort that is part of my everyday struggle. My sister once sent me something that said, “I am in control of how I feel, and today, I’m choosing happiness.” This resonates with me so deeply and profoundly because, if I want, I can have the control, I can choose the way I feel, I have that power.

But it’s not always that easy. Because control means planning, it means OCD, it means that I am meticulously manipulating every part of my life, not only internally, but externally as well. I cannot take the risk of being caught off guard because I may easily become victim to my own emotions. I may feel an anger so irrational, triggered by someone smacking their lips or walking too slow in front of me, that compels me to want to throw something, hit someone, or start screaming. And, to be honest, I hate that feeling. Anger, for me, is the worst one, and it’s also the hardest to control.

At this point in my life, I think I’ve got a decent handle on it. I know when it’s coming, and I confront it head on. Sometimes I just let it go, let the rage that builds up inside of me release itself productively on that unsuspecting Pinterest project. (A hammer always seems to help.) And then I just let myself sit in it, let the feeling wash over me, pull me into the calm after the storm. And the emotion that follows, that one is always a nice one for me. Serene and tranquil breaths gently replace the ones that were heaving themselves in and out of my chest just a moment before.

So yes, I am overemotional. I get angry. And, you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’d rather be experiencing life in extremes than not experiencing it at all.