How to Deal With Rage by Transmuting It Into Creative Fuel

Pools of sweat fall down the sides of my unkempt face as the heart monitor surges through 190 beats per minute. My legs move in swift, aggressive circles like a locomotive hurtling down open track. I’m taking a flame thrower to my past.

Where Rage Actually Goes

I haven’t done a very good job at channeling my rage in the past. I usually let it fester for days, weeks, months, years. I let it get to the point where it’s so uncomfortable that I either burn something to the ground or passive aggressively express it through my body.

Debilitating pain. Backache. Toothache. Headache. Terrible events. These things have happened in my life in cycles with almost clockwork precision. My rage has to go somewhere. When I don’t deal with it head on, it finds other means of expressing itself.

The Things I’m Actually Mad About

I’m mad about the way our culture handles conflict. Always looking for something external to blame instead of addressing root causes.

I’m mad that I was lied to by so many people when I was growing up about what being an adult was like.

I’m mad that I spent so much of my twenties trying to prove myself to people whose opinions ultimately didn’t matter.

I’m mad that I felt like I had to achieve certain milestones to feel validated. And I’m mad that achieving those milestones didn’t turn out to be as fulfilling as I thought they would be.

I’m mad that I can’t seem to find my voice yet, even though I’ve been trying my entire life. I’m mad that I care so much about what other people think.

The Fuel Underneath

But mostly, I’m mad that I still haven’t found a project that I can sink my entire being into. Something I can feel, know, and become so passionately that it consumes me.

So yeah, I’m mad about a few things. And that’s okay.

Because what I do know and fully expect is that I’ll solve all of these problems and more through creative innovation. I’m asking for solutions, for ideas. For the words to express what burns inside of me.

Finding Outlets That Work

While I wait, I’m trying to find ways to funnel off some of the frenetic energy. I’m running up and down city streets at midnight, jumping up and down, throwing rocks at walls. I’m screaming at the top of my lungs from the tops of parking garages. I’m writing hate letters and then burning them as I watch the angry flames lick up at the sky.

I’m using any creative outlet I can find to try and communicate the thing that’s inside me. I don’t even know what it is because I haven’t found the means to say it. But I’m writing. I’m drawing. I’m screaming. I’m singing.

Transmutation Is the Answer

I’ve got some rage. For the first time, I’m not putting a Band-Aid on it and pretending that nothing is there. I’m feeling it. I’m letting it seethe in my veins. Then I’m transmuting it into creative fuel.

I’m letting the wrathful beast that dwells within me sprout wings. And together, we’re finding new heights.

And then, when I crawl into bed at night, I sink into sleep like a stone in water.

When I wake up, I’m not so mad anymore.