Anger

Don't be misled. I'm not angry. At least not right now. There was a time when I wasn't angry. Then there was a time when I wasn't angry and didn't show it. That was a long time. That's not to say that I was angry all the time. It's just that I just didn't get angry enough or loud enough in my anger. The problem is, as with anything, if you stifle it long enough it's bound to blow.

Then one day I woke up and I was angry. Really angry. Except I didn't even know I was angry. I just became what I felt was "violent". Please don't be misled. I didn't beat my husband or my children. I didn't throw things (unless you count pillows). And I didn't hurt myself. But I did see a rage I had never seen before in myself. I yelled. A lot. I'm almost embarrassed to say how much I yelled. I yelled at strangers on the phone. I yelled at my kids. And I swore. A lot.

Then one day I realized that I was angry. Great. Now what? Angry at what? Circumstances forced this anger to the surface and I got to really experience some raw anger. I was angry that I didn't have help. I was angry that I didn't ask for help. I was angry that I couldn't give my kids more of my energy. I was angry for having to be their everything - maid, servant, housekeeper, chef, chauffeur, personal hygienist, stylist. I was angry at being pregnant when I didn't want to be. I was angry at my body not being able to do what I wanted it to do, what it used to do. I was angry at being alone. I was angry at being alone and not being able to be angry at anyone else for it. I was angry at how women get treated. I was angry at and about everything.

Once I figured out that I was angry and what I was angry about, I let myself just be angry. Just be. I just made sure I didn't hurt anyone (at least physically) and I just went with it. Eventually I tired of it. I wore it out. I ran it and ran it and ran it until it was just out of breathe. Yelling felt old and useless. Swearing just seemed ineffective. I was starting to be done. It was good and it was done.

Now anger is one of the spectrum of emotions I feel. Part of my repertoire, a flavor I taste sometimes when the meal and moment is in need. I explored anger. I've determined when it's really anger and when it's merely irritation, or frustration or annoyance. There's a path to anger. Sometimes there are signs that appear and I try to remember that they lead to anger. Then I can remember that I don't have to go there. I might if the time and the situation calls for it. But then again, I might not.