Mad furious young woman with raised hands standing and screaming

Beep, beep, flash, flash,

Stomp on the brakes.

“You can’t make me go faster than I need to go!”


Yet you still drive up my butt.

Anger rages inside me,

I give you the middle finger,

You back away,

But I feel angry.

Why don’t people have respect any more?

Why do people intrude on others’ spaces?

Why don’t you see me?


Me, trying to get my little boy to sleep.

Me, stewing on a text because somebody is upset about something I’ve done,

Me, trying to sit with the uncomfortable.


Yet, there you are flashing your lights at me…

I’m doing the right thing.

Careless you drive, not even thinking about me, the driver in front.


I am like a ticking time bomb,

Brewing up inside, I am going to explode.

I’m over the people trying to assert power over me.

Their personalities grasping at me,

But I slip through…

As I learn to sit with the uncomfortable,

As I learn to let go of what people think,

I start to feel powerful in my discomfort.


Yet angry.


So much anger.


Waiting to come out,

Waiting to spill over,

Waiting to be screamed out from the mountain tops:

“You can’t control me anymore!”


I unravel the layers.

And I process,

Bit by bit.


And I see me.


And I love her.

© Diana Braybrooke



Now, don’t be concerned.

I just express myself best through poetry.

Yesterday was one of those days where my road rage was getting the better of me.

You see, I do the speed limit more often than not these days and I had someone intimidating me in a ute (of course. Yep, totally stereotyping ute drivers right here).

Confession, I don’t do well with people trying to make me do things.

You see for so long I have had my voice silenced. I have not spoken up.

Through counselling I have realised that the car is that place where I can get all that pented up anger out.

You see, I have nothing to risk as such. I don’t ACTUALLY have to confront the person. I just have to try and control the situation by slowing down and annoying the other person, perhaps if I’m really irate I throw the middle finger up. (Yep, again for the Christians here offended. #sorrynotsorry #notaperfectchristian).

Yet, I don’t want that for myself. I know I need to have my voice heard, sure, but there’s got to be a better way to control when the anger is bubbling below the surface and demanding a hearing.


I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’re probably just like me.

A woman with anxiety, with anger just bubbling beneath the surface.

Your voice has been silenced. I mean what’s the point in sharing? People don’t listen anyways!

Did you know underlying anger is deep sadness?


What is it you are deeply saddened about?

Dear one, you have a voice and it needs to be heard.

I get it, you feel like no one sees you.

Or if they see you, you think they see ‘crazy you.’ The one that needs meds to gain any sense of stability.

The one that needs to be validated over and over because you just don’t believe in yourself. You believe in the voices in your head telling you ‘You so haven’t got this!.’



You are seen and you are loved.

Your weirdness? Well it is admired and loved by the God of this universe.

Your anxiety doesn’t make sense right now,

But at the moment it is keeping you safe.

It will process it in due time.


And in the mean time, it’s ok to feel angry. It’s ok to beep the horn. It’s ok to get frustrated.

Beauty comes from the ashes after all.

The refining fires suck, ABSOLUTELY.

What I know for sure though is that sitting in the anger only makes my body feel tight. Tense.

You got to get that out of your system.



Say “Sorry.”



Eat the finest chocolate.

But don’t you EVER give up.


There’s someone out there that needs you.

The inner child inside of you, waiting to be soothed, nurtured, remembered and honoured.

And she too is glorious…


Imperfectly perfect.

Embrace her today dear one,

You’ve got this!






Comment below what you do when you feel angry and overwhelmed. I’d love to hear from you. Please share the post using the buttons below if you loved it.