Today's OneWord: Channel
"I know you're angry, Chris," my mother said, watching my fingers turn white as I gripped the bedpost. "I know how much you want to hurt him. How much you want to kill him. But you can't. You know that."
I didn't respond to her - not verbally, anyway. I could hear my breaths assaulting my ribcage, bursts of guttural notes playing xylophone on my bones.
"What I need you to do," my mother continued, unperturbed by my hyperventilation, "is channel that anger into something else, okay?"
I didn't respond to her - not verbally, anyway. I could hear my breaths assaulting my ribcage, bursts of guttural notes playing xylophone on my bones.
"What I need you to do," my mother continued, unperturbed by my hyperventilation, "is channel that anger into something else, okay?"
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