"Feelings suck." My counselor laughed. "You really are an emotional person," he said. "Emotional people are unreliable. I don't want to be like that," I countered. "Emotions are what help you experience life," was his final answer. I really do hate feelings. They're a nuisance. I'd rather wrap them up and hide them away in the attic of my mind. In fact, I've got a storage unit filled with repressed anger, fear, worry, and joy. I anesthetize my mind. I shut down at the first sign of an emotion. It's a beautiful existence filled with no ups and downs. Or so I think. I tried an experiment the other day. A particular issue reared its head, and I confronted it. In the past, I would have ignored it and then reacted in a passive-aggressive manner. I'd make a sarcastic remark. I'd find a way to criticize. I'd ignore or not speak. Instead, I faced the rage within me head on. I went for a drive and realized that I was trying