I did something stupid today. I went upstairs and watched a part of "The Hiding Place", and now I feel an overwhelming hatred for the Germans of that time. It's the strongest, hottest, most poisonous anger that I have ever felt in my entire life. I don't understand how the guards who worked in the camps could consider themselves better, or even human. Right now it is my dearest wish to rip them all to pieces, to see them hurt in every way possible. I know it's wrong of me to want that, but I feel so uncontrollably angry.
I don't know how anyone could treat another living creature in such a way, especially someone who is just like them. I'm so angry that I'm crying. How is it possible for people to do that to one another? And now I feel like doing the same thing. Why does that happen? Why did they do it? And why do I have urges to become the same sort of monster that the Germans were?
My whole body aches. Every beating and lashing I viewed is now present upon my own body and soul, like phantom reminders of the past. The skin on my back feels each tear and strike; the muscles and veins of my hands and wrists bleed. My mind sees the images of suffering and pain and transfers it onto my own body. The sights, sounds, and memories feed the hate I feel. I hate what happens to people. I hate it. I hate them. And I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't. How can I stay away from such hatred? How can I keep it from destroying me, like it destroyed so many before?
I know that Christ has felt every single thing that those people felt, and that I feel now. Could he have possibly felt the hate that I feel, and feel the pain it adds? Does he understand? I know he can help if I let him. That's how I can stay away from such hatred. This has shown me again how much I need a Savior, and he's there. Always. No matter what happens, he's there.
I don't feel hate anymore. Just pain and sadness, a horrible, aching emptiness. I don't understand it. I wish it had never happened to anyone.
The hate is easier. It's easier to feel. You can let it control you and it makes you stronger. But in the end, it will only break you. The sadness is harder to bear, but it doesn't feel evil. It makes me want to help those in need now, and to make sure that justice is brought about for those who suffer today. Sadness isn't hot. It doesn't make me want to rip people apart. Sadness is cool and makes me want to help. If that makes any sense.
I'm sorry I've gone off on this for so long. It helped though, to write out what I was feeling. I'm still horribly sad, but I know how to stay away from such anger. See, I don't think things through all the way until I examine how I feel. I have to let how I feel and what I'm thinking bleed out onto a page, whether in my own handwriting or pounding it out on a keyboard. Then I can get to a resolution. And I have, really. I don't feel angry. And the sadness is ebbing away and changing into a resolve to make the world better so that where I live this sort of thing won't happen. I'll try to lift others up instead of bringing them down, because crushing, tearing words can be just as painful as whips and guns. Even more, I think. I can't stop a war, and I can't force people to think the way I do, but I can help individual people not feel so alone. I can help in different ways.
Again, I'm sorry. I'll still post this, because after all this is my journal. But now you know why I did.