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Fear And Anger - Body by Henson, brain by Seuss. [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Kelly J. Cooper

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Fear And Anger [Jun. 10th, 2009|01:44 am]
Kelly J. Cooper
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Interesting. I was reading hammercock's post about women and fear, which was inspired by cereta's post "On rape and men."

I'm not sure where it came from, but there is a deep, abiding rage inside me. I have had it for as long as I can remember. Meaning, for me at least, that I can't remember my brain from before it, if that makes sense.

However, it is so thoroughly banked that I only get well and truly angry once every few years. (I don't count "pissed" [in the American sense of the word] as anger; it's more extreme irritation. I get irritated a LOT, although less often as I get older.)

Very few people have actually SEEN me well and truly angry. If you think you've seen it, odds are good that you're wrong.

Anyway, when I was in college, I used to walk other girls home. If a woman needed fetching from a frat house because her friends were nervous about her safety, I put on my work boots and whatever layers of cheap clothing were handy (t-shirts and overshirts - often flannel overshirts - and my denim jacket), and I'd clomp in and retrieve her. We didn't have a contingent of guy friends we could count on. Our few really trustworthy guy friends had to be walked home too - skinny little nerds, mostly.

It wasn't so much that I was unafraid. It was more that, when I was in protection mode, I had no room for fear because I could feel those warm coals inside me, trying to stoke up and get out. I was all business and at the first sign of any sort of shenanigans, my teeth would clench and my face would draw back in the sort of smile that any dog or ape would recognize as having everything to do with fighting and nothing to do with good humor.

It's not a smart rage. It responds very poorly to threats.

Which is odd, because when I'm alone out in the world, especially at night, in the dark, I'm often afraid. But I'm more afraid of the unexpected, the startlement of an attack, than the actual attack itself. I'm not afraid of rape so much as being caught off-guard and unprepared.

I'm not sure if I have a point. Just ruminating on fear, power, and gender stuff.
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Comments:
[User Picture]From: drwex
2009-06-10 03:11 pm (UTC)
*leaves a pebble*
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: gem225
2009-06-11 04:36 am (UTC)
I am working on getting back my rage. I want it, but I still have too much fucking fear getting in the way. Maybe when the bastard who abused me dies? That's what I hope.

You're a great protector. You always make me feel safe. I cherish that. Thank you. :-D
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