Rage: Carrie 2, The

A few years ago, a friend and I entered a small cafe. In back, a man offered free palm readings, and as one always intrigued by things beyond the five senses, I sat my hand and presented with high expectations. After a pause, the player said softly: "You are very angry." Not exactly what I had in mind. Certainly, he must have seen much success in my career as a performer so he had confused lines of my hand with someone else. What could I, Queen of the excitement, maybe be angry? But despite my weak protests, he insisted and my anger has been assumed everything he spoke to the minutes allotted 5-10. I felt I was wasting my money, then I remembered ... I have not paid.

Fast forward a few years, I skillfully navigate the seas of life. Things were the status quo was in good health, the bills were paid, I had wonderful friends and was in a fantastic relationship. Besides the normal frustrations of life in show biz I had no major complaints I could not refuse the surf calm feeling crazy, feeling of being wrong, without evidence or incident. That being the case I did what many of us, put it aside and focused on the daily operations of my life. But July 4th weekend I was forced to take a bath in the surf, and Come Clean.

The city was experiencing a heat wave, my honey had to leave the city while I was up to me. But he had hardly done a day before I had the displeasure of visiting my absolute ultimate phobia. A bug in the water. Now, water bugs are to me what the mice, snakes and spiders are to others. The sight of them reduces me to a fight wound up toy on speed. I just lost. Since my protector was gone, I had to kill the monster, and I found myself screaming and crying like a child in the terrible two stage, just pitiful. As I unravel, I knew something was really wrong, but when the hysteria was serious and I was swept up in the torrent. Numb, the next day, I am facing. Why did I lose like that? For the answer, I knew I needed to dig deeply and carefully, as I dig in a sacred burial ground. Yes, I hate water bugs, but I wore Gees!

Something was really my soul and consumption needed tending to. But what? A calm voice, replied, "You are full of rage. I tried to tell you in many ways, but you did not listen. "And in that moment I knew the truth. I was full of pure, unadulterated, unfiltered, rabies uranium. And no, it was not the time of the month, and I ' have not just a bad day. I was more frustrated, more angry, I was a fire-breathing monster behind a innocent looking face. Then Mrs. Wise spoke-in-Hymer, strong. "Okay, we admit we are angry, but what, pray? For a minute, I'm puzzled. I prided myself to stay connected, I have no self-help books from the library. I am in contact with my inner child, we do lunch often. In the midst of my research, I came to this: you can recite affirmations to infinity, but if you do not own the house, and I mean really clean house (as you do when important people are coming and more), you're just putting perfume on the funk. Every time I felt the bile rising, I shoot him with a dose of positive thinking, never address the gnawing , just apologize later. All deny the earthquake underlying rock Wait.

Now, really, I was in no mood to go deep sea introspection. Having survived one of the most tumultuous periods in my adult life, I thought that the digging was completed. My thirties started in the middle of an abuse ugly, ugly lengthy divorce featuring verbal and physical. Add to that a work situation hopeless when I was fighting with the cast permanently. And if that was not dramatic enough, I made a case that has been very destructive to my psyche and put myself in danger in more than one occasion. And.