Why is it so easy to relate to anger--even another's anger--when it comes to feelings towards a person in the wrong? It's somewhat comfortable to exist in this state. Complaining, venting, crying, punching, yelling....
Caught in turmoile now--I actually feel sorry, sad, confused towards this person, even though he's tearing so many things apart by actions that could be prevented.
Where is the even playing ground in this situation? My mother's angry. My father's ripping a family apart. My brother's absent both physically and emotionally. I don't know what I feel at most times of the day. I'll be in the bathroom and just start crying, staring off on the train and feel blah.
What's getting me through this, as always, is exercise. Getting out there, moving, stiving for something closer to the earth. A time to clear my head, focus on the simplicity of feet hitting ground, pushing my body further, mentally releasing whatever is rolling around in my shoulders, tensing up my stance.
Life is never easy, and just when it seems to be, something happens that turns it all around. To keep it steady, even, calm--one must find a healthy outlet. For me, exercise has become that.
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