Have you ever internalized anger, frustration or criticism? Here’s what happened to me.

This week, I’m staying in a cabin perched on the north shore of a lake. Looking out from my writing spot, I see a horseshoe-shaped cove, enormous pine trees and mountains framing a long stretch of water and sky.

Spending my summers in western Maine as a kid was idyllic because of the setting, but also because my sister and I had unusual pets for kids that spent most of their lives in Boston. One year we had rabbits. Another summer, my sister raised a pig. When I was 9, my aunt Eva was rearing ducklings and gave one to my sister and me. We named the duckling Quackers. I know, so original.

Like, leap-onto-a-chair, screechy afraid.

And then I met my husband-to-be who had a snake living in a terrarium at his house. He named her Madeline, and she had flat, unblinking eyes. She was one long sinewy muscle wrapped in smooth, cool skin.