In games, there always seems to be that battle. It’s the one that catches you off guard, the one in which you have to spend hours leveling up or figuring out the right method of attack. Maybe it’s that level you have do over and over again until you get it right.
The nice thing about video games is that once you beat the boss, it doesn’t come back. Well, unless it does, and it’s even harder the second time. But the game always ends… unless it’s one of those games that doesn’t.
So maybe my example here is a little rough, but the point is that we tend to fight our emotions like they’re boss fights. One of my battles is with anger.
I’ve thrown a few phones, been a cabinet slammer, a mess. I try but I don’t always express it healthily, so I always wonder, how the hell do I beat it? There’s supposed to be a top to the hill, you get over it, and you roll back down. There’s always that voice that says, “can’t you just snap out of it?” which then results in an amplification of the rage.
Unfortunately, it’s not something you beat. It’s something you manage, same with all your other feelings. It’s a response. But, crazy enough, we’re allowed to feel. It’s alright to be angry. It’s what you do about that emotion that matters. It’s not fair to others to let it out on others; that’s something my partner told me when I was snapping at him once, and he was right.
So what do I do with it? Managing is much easier in theory. And I struggle with it, alongside plenty of other issues. Everyone carries their boss fights on their back. One thing I do when I’m frustrated is write about angry people, the curmudgeons. It allows me to step out of my own head and think about my emotions from a different perspective. Everything you feel is a tool to help you learn. By teaching my characters a lesson about themselves, a little epiphany moment, I learn a little bit too. Our stories give back to us.