It was scary and uncontrollable. As a little kid, my anger was punished and ridiculed, because it was always accompanied by frustration which made me cry. Once the tears started I would run off by myself to indulge in self-pity. By the time I was in my teens, that little party sent me stumbling down the road of self-loathing landing my somewhere between melancholy and depression.
Later in life I had heard somewhere that depression is just repressed anger. It made sense but it didn’t help much.
Then when I learned that anger is secondary to hurt feelings or fears I was amazed. I could cut out the middleman and go straight to the source. Address the real issue!
It actually did help. I haven’t gone through those monotonous bouts of depression in years.
I’d feel a twinge of irritation or frustration and examine the underlying issue before it manifested into full blown anger.
“I’m judging to harshly, I need to love unconditionally.”
“I’m trying to control the situation, I must be invested in the outcome, I need to let go.”
“I’m hurt by the disrespectful attitude. I need to forgive them and remember my worth.”
Yes I could analyze and rationalize but I wasn’t feeling. I was stuffing it down and it was building pressure. It was blocking my energy.
One night, not too long ago,
everyone in my house was sleeping except me. I was trying to quell anxiety and analyze my hurt feelings to no avail, when it dawned on me, I was mad. And I said it out loud, slightly surprised, “I’m angry!”
And since I was too tired to fight it and I didn’t know what else to do, I just sat with it. I reviewed my circumstances and realized I was angry with myself and the situation I’d gotten myself into. I was angry with the people involved because they weren’t behaving the way I thought they should.
My heart started beating faster and my breathing quickened. Blood rushed through my limbs and my ears got really hot. I sat there with it. Soon the tension between my shoulder blades started to dissolve and the knot in my stomach loosened. A swirl of energy formed behind my navel and started zipping through my limbs like a swarm of angry bees. I’m pretty sure I was buzzing like an amplifier. I found myself pacing back and forth, slightly dizzy from the rush of adrenalin. My vision blurred on the edges.
A thought would cross my mind and I’d growl or throw punches in the air. I had no one to yell at and no desire to destroy any of my stuff.
I just let myself feel it and it was powerful. It was the kind of powerful that was almost frightening. There was a part of me that stayed in control, which refused to let me do anything that I would later regret.
I'm so grateful for that!
This lasted about 20 minutes. When it finally burned out, I was exhausted. I crawled into bed and slept really well for the first time in weeks. I woke up feeling stronger, clearer and more capable of making the changes that needed to be made.
Someone told me once
that anger isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it’s the only thing that gets a person out of bed every morning. Sometimes it can be therapeutic. At the time I didn’t buy into it.
A few days after my angry incident, I was reading Elizabeth Gilberts, “Eat, Pray, Love” and I just happened to be reading about her stay in India and her struggles with a daily chant called the Gurugita. It was torturous and filled her with anger but by staying with it and letting herself feel the feelings she was able to transform herself, heal a part of her.
I don’t believe in coincidences, I’m positive that I read that part at that time to understand my own emotion and my own experience. I doubt I’ll make a habit out of getting angry but I think I’m at a point now where I don’t have to avoid it.