Some notes on anger

It comes as no surprise to anyone, but I've been a little angry. And not just lately. Yes, I have reason to be angry. But how helpful is anger, especially as time goes on? How long should I be angry? 

My anger stems from my childhood. It was drilled into me to be frustrated and angry (mostly by my brothers) by the physical abuse from my father, and also general neglect (which is just a form of abuse). They not only put anger in me, but they made sure I was constantly defeated, ensuring the pattern of defeat would continue long after they were done traumatizing me. I embodied defeat. I still do. Some of the angriest people I have known — and sometimes they don't even know why they are angry — are those who have endured childhood trauma in the form of physical, emotional, or sexual abuse. Of course, there are those who hide those things, too, under a veneer of tranquility and kindness. Well, I've made no bones about my anger. This whole dynamic is portrayed pretty flawlessly in the book The Perks of Being a Wallflower. The abuse may stop, but the anger continues. 

Allow me to illustrate. I've never felt like a whole person because of the abuse inflicted on me. There is a putting away of self when one endures abuse. We cannot afford to feel the pain all at once, so we box it up and segment it. Breaking ourselves down is the only way to break down the pain. It is a whole-person pain, but when we segment ourselves, then we can also break down the pain, lessening it somewhat. But the fact that I was not a whole person allowed other people to control me. I needed that because I was not complete. But I was also angry I allowed them to control me. So I lashed out in anger, often in a passive-aggressive manner, which then allowed them to continue to treat me poorly, and often more poorly than before. And they could blame me for treating me poorly because I was so angry. Not only that, but it gave them more control, which angered me more. They may have caused the problem, but my anger made it worse. Does all of that sound horrible? Welcome to my life.

Anyway, I have just one kid, but if I had more than one kid, and if those kids fought, I would let them hammer things out without much interference. Until a point, that is. I think it is important kids don't always get rescued by someone. They need to find coping mechanisms and learn how to bargain or compromise, all good qualities in life. So, my policy would be hands-off. Unless someone was constantly getting throttled with no recourse or workable solution. Someone should have protected me in that way, clearly, but no one did. The only thing that saved me was running away from everyone, in one sense or another. When I feel cornered and can no longer run away, that's when my anger flares the most.

After my divorce, I got some breathing room. But the anger remained. It wasn't the end of my hurting; it was just a doorway to more hurting. And I'm surrounded by three people who have heaped all sorts of pain upon me in my life — in different ways — nearly every day. When I'm with all three of them, I feel like I'm going to have a breakdown (and I actually have). Someone once said you can't heal in the same environment that made you sick. Boy, do I get that. That is a big reason why I can't stay here.

Here's the clincher, though. I don't know how much I am actually angry with these people. Yes, I don't want them in my life. Yes, I want to move away. But that won't end being hurt by someone. Recently, God showed me something. I'm really just angry with God, but I'm taking it out on other people, especially myself. I mean, what is suicide and all that self-destructive behavior except hating God? I can't hurt Him, but I can hurt His creation — me. Sure, I blamed my parents and brothers for my shitty childhood. Sure, I can blame my ex, Kate, for hurting me endlessly for years. But, really, I'm just angry with God. 

The whole thing with Cindy really brought this to the surface. I felt she betrayed me. But, here God was telling me I had no right to be angry with her, that she was simply doing what she thought was right, that it was part of His plan. But I was angry. That was me being disobedient to God. I was upset God told me to do something that for me was difficult (which perhaps isn't difficult at all for most people); I was upset He had cornered me, essentially, and given me no choice but to obey. As I stated above, when I'm cornered, my anger is fierce. It reminds me of being held down by my brothers and pummeled into oblivion. 

With the revelation I was really just angry with God, I was able to renounce my anger and ask forgiveness, approaching each day with a better attitude. God clearly has a plan for my life, and I need to just let Him do what He's going to do. Everything I've done to thwart that only sets me back. I'm done trying. Yes, I know I've said that before, but my anger was preventing me from doing that. 

This whole thing is bigger than any relationship or any hurt from any relationship. You may think I'm self-aggrandizing and making this bigger than it is, but I'm not. I always want to simplify problems to find solutions. Sometimes I oversimplify (a typical male trait). But I'm surely not trying to make this bigger than it is. I've had a lifetime of shitty relationships set in motion from the original dynamic of my family. But there is one relationship that can heal all of that pain. My relationship with God is the only way out of this hard place I've found myself. The only way to advance that relationship and heal is to be obedient. If you're the praying kind, please pray for me. 

And thank you for reading.