Fury

"Rage. Rage against the dying of the light."

Over the physically and emotionally painful years I have lost much of my emotional capacity. Happiness has been mutilated, sadness has been numbed into oblivion, and fear has been ripped to shreds. Anger. Anger has not been reduced in any capacity. In fact, it is more intense now.

The similarity between fury and fire is obvious. They both burn and consume and expand when given any fuel. Both can keep you warm in the cold times or burn you if you let it get out of control. Out of the two, fury is the worst. Anger is terribly difficult to stamp out. The more you try, the more it fights back. Through time the madness seems to spontaneously ignite itself. It becomes uncontrollable and dangerous to anyone around you, including yourself. The emotion can consume you whole. I struggle daily against my final, furious emotion. But instead of trying to extinguish the flames I try to force it into a fuel source.

I use the rage to keep me going. When depression hits me like an avalanche I push back with the full force of my fury. So far the technique has served me well. Every day is treated like a combat scenario and the rage keeps me powering through it all. As you can imagine, this technique is not without its drawbacks.

Like a boiler used to keep a building war, fury requires a constant fuel source. The more you feed it, the harder it becomes to let it subside. Soon you realize that the power you rely upon is eating you alive and leaving nothing but ash. You are a man on fire. A man of fire.

I was this man of flame for a long time. Maybe that has not changed. Lately, though, either the forces around me have become too strong or my furious fuel has been dwindling. And... I think I'm alright with that. Enough of me has been exhausted from the internal blaze.

The light died long ago. Time to stop raging against it and find a new fuel source.