I Thought I'd Made Peace with My Anger. Then I Picked Up a Crowbar.

The author inside the rage room. “Choose your weapon,” the man said, pointing to the wire rack above me that held sledgehammers, wrenches and crowbars. His words broke through my anxious thoughts, bringing me back to the room. My hands burned inside my protective gloves, slick with sweat. I stood in the prep room next to my husband, waiting for our turn. My legs began to tremble as adrenaline surged through me like a strong electrical current