steps to Nojoqui state park waterfall, 18-55mm
I used to be afraid of my anger. Nice, sweet, submissive Christian women didn't get angry, right? I hid my anger and apologized for it. I thought being angry was wrong.
Back then, anger accentuated my feelings of helplessness. I felt trapped and thought nothing would ever change. So I dealt with my anger by ducking into the nearest bathroom and muffling my sobs into wads of toilet paper.
Then I would emerge, pat my face with a cold, wet paper-towel and be all: "Praise the Lord! Everything is great!"
I dunno, maybe this is just a woman-thing. I mean, I can't imagine men having mini-breakdowns in church bathroom stalls. But then again, do men feel as helpless as women do in these kinds of churches?
Probably. But perhaps their anger manifests itself differently.
Anyway, one day several months after leaving our radical fundamentalist church, I was taking a shower and thinking about everything that had happened. Suddenly, I was overcome with raw, powerful, fist-shaking anger.
I raised both my arms and shook them violently at the ceiling. And I cussed.
"How could you?" I hissed, through clenched teeth. "How could you DO THIS to us?"
I was talking to my grandfather–the founder of our church. The one who had betrayed us all and then refused to repent.
I also felt a tremendous amount of shame. My family had perpetuated hurt upon other people. That mortified me. And even though I didn't create our toxic religious system (I was just a kid growing up in it), I felt a crushing burden of guilt-by-association.
Shame, guilt and anger. A deadly combination.
And yes, I suppose I was ranting at God, too. I felt like He had let me down, abandoned me.
After I vented, I felt better. But only temporarily. That's when I discovered the danger of anger. It wasn't enough to vent. In fact, venting only led to more venting.
What I really needed was resolution. I needed to find a way through the anger to forgiveness and reconciliation.
I needed to find peace.
Anger is a natural, human response to injury, injustice or fear. I learned that being angry wasn't wrong. But I needed to channel that anger into something productive, beneficial.
Otherwise, my hurt would hurt others. And furthermore, if I allowed anger to fester, it would harden into a root of bitterness.
I learned (and am learning) to deal with my anger by developing strategies and coping mechanisms:
1. Cool off: if I'm steamed, I need to do manual labor. Nothing cools me off better than whipping through a sinkful of dishes, folding several loads of laundry, taking a brisk walk, cleaning out a closet.
2. Prayer: before I talk to someone else about the problem, I talk to the Lord about it. I just purge out the entire mess, perhaps journaling it out. Talking with God helps me remember that human beings betraying me is not the same as God abandoning me.
3. A trusted advisor: after I've cooled off and talked to the Lord about it, I talk with someone whom I love and trust. I need this person to tell me the truth without automatically taking my side. I appreciate the objective listening ear of a friend who knows the Lord and knows me, too.
4. Action: there's a reason taking action is last. It's absolutely imperative that I work, pray and THINK before taking action. This insures that my action is not done in a moment of anger, potentially hurting others.
5. Avoidance: I avoid angry people. Since most of my anger stems from spiritual and religious abuse, I particularly avoid angry pastors (or bloggers). Honestly, I cannot watch or listen to a pastor who raises his voice, pounds his podium or even Tweets negatively.
These are a few of the ways I deal with anger in order to live a more peaceful life. The best part? Dealing with my anger enables me to help my little ones deal with their anger (ie. Jorie expressing her frustration and fear about going in the ocean!)
How about you? How do you deal with anger?
