I thought I was smart enough to dodge rejection by preventing it from happening in the first place. I had years of practice with my family; pretending I didn’t exist, and learning how to please and appease. Grandma told me once that silence was golden so I took it literally, and spoke only when spoken to, which wasn’t much in an ordinary day with my family.

My dad muttered, snapped his fingers or whistled to me. My sister barely spoke to me at all unless I was commanded to tell her a bedtime story. She spoke more with her looks of disdain. My brother looked right through me, and often spoke with his fist in passing. And mum gave the orders. Ours was a silent house hold full of tension, and reeking with anger.

Since I was the youngest in that family I was the target of everyone's anger. It made sense that I was the angriest, because I had no outlet for my own anger. I was told to, get that look off my face. And asked, "Have you got the shits up," or "are you wild." I was stared at until I broke out into a submissive smile. Ma tended to patronize on such occasion's.

After years in therapy, and having my anger validated (present and past) I became more comfortable with it. I knew what and who made me angry, and started to feel anger more intensely even when it was past anger. I became more animated while telling my stories, and relived those past moments with the emotions I wasn’t permitted to express at that time. As always rejection was the trigger.

When repressed rage started to surface it felt more like terror at first. Fear of anger was replaced by terror of rage. Terror dominated and kept my rage intact until it was safe to express it. That was the time my anxiety level skyrocketed, and tranquilizers were prescribed.

During those times of rejection I still couldn’t defend myself. Feelings of terror had me run again. And It didn’t matter if I was in the right or wrong when rejected, I lost all battles because my feelings of terror and rage were so overwhelming. With a little imagination I could relive those moments of rejection in private by fantasizing them with emotion. I found myself regressing at those times; seeing my present day rejecter then swapping their face with that of a family member, mainly my mothers. My stored rage was finally being vented.

I needed repeated explanation and reassurance from my therapist as to what was happening to me at that time. It made sense, but I felt my faith in therapy was sorely being tested.

On a scale of naught to ten I'd say my reaction to rejection was a 1. when I was a child. As an adult prior to therapy it was a 2. Early therapy, it was a 4. During regression, it was a 9-10, and probably the same when I was first rejected as an infant.

During my 1/2 hour weekly bouts with regression and fantasy with emotion I won all battles with my rejectors/ perpetrator's/family. Having a vivid imagination made me stronger, bigger, and meaner. I could replay rejection like a movie, in fact that’s where I got some of my best ideas from, in horror movies. I incorporated them into my fantasies in an attempt to "win" and lash out at my threats.

I felt regression coming on at a convenient time when I was alone and safe enough to feel. My energy was zapped and I was forced to lay down. I started off in foetal position, feeling very cold, and scared. I rewound my thoughts to the rejected moment, felt the humiliation, degradation, and then the rage. My bodies reaction took over then when my back and neck arched, my fists, and jaw clenched, and my arms stretched out. My body held that position as I held my breath and visualized mayhem. I became seething with rage, while barely making a noise. The silent cry of an enraged infant.



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