Steps for dealing with anger

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?

Comments

[Kat]

Oh man. I have been out of the abusive church I was a part of for six years, and I am just now, JUST now starting to scratch the surface of the rage I feel. And much of it is directed at God, so prayer doesn't relieve it most of the time.

I would also be interested to know how men deal when they are "out".

[Elizabeth Esther]

Kat: I hear you. And I just wanted to add that I remained angry for a long while after coming out of the church. So far as I know, it's a normal part of the grieving/healing process. The wounds and hurt are real. For me, prayer started to help about 1.5 years ago. But everyone is different. My steps may not work for you. And that's OK! :) ((hugs)) to you on your journey.

[Heather]

EE-
Thank you for always sharing your heart with your readers. Thank you specifically for this post. I am dealing with some pretty intense anger right now that is directed towards my immediate family. I hate feeling this way and I am trying to deal with this anger in a healthy and constructive way. When I punched myself in the leg last week I knew it was deep and nasty anger. I am struggling with prayer right now as Kat is. However, I have sought out the counsel of a woman whom is an amazing example of a healthy strong Christian leader. Additionally, THERAPY! I am looking forward to my appointment this week. It is empowering to know we are not walking this life alone. Thanks again for sharing this part of your life.

[SaraJ]

Like you, I first had to admit how angry I was -- and that it was good to be angry about the twisted scripture and spiritual oppression I'd lived under. The simple presence of anger doesn't "give Satan ground" or "let bitterness take root," as I'd been taught.

It was when I admitted to God (and my husband and my pastor) that I was angry at Him that I began to find some release.

The mental image is that of an angry child, sitting on the couch and sulking, while her father sits nearby -- patiently waiting her out. This is what my husband does for our children, and it gave me a new picture of how God interacts with me.

My husband and I then went to a trusted Christian counselor, who listened to my story and did NOT tell me that I needed to read through the Psalms and hear God's voice. Whew. It was immensely helpful to have a trained listener who guided the conversation but let me express how I felt, even when I knew those feelings were off-kilter.

This has been a long process -- it began at least six years ago. We saw the counselor just last year. I'm still not to the point that I can imagine myself falling happily into God the Father's embrace. But I do sit nearer to Him on the couch.

These posts of yours have been very helpful. It's good to talk about the hurts of a fundamentalist background, with the focus on healing instead of vengeance. There's a forum I had to stop reading because it went on and on, thousands of posts. It's long since lost any useful purpose; it's obvious that the moderator has been hurt by the patriarchal system and is bent on hurting "patriocentric" people back.

I knew I didn't want to be that way. I'm glad to have found you, because you don't want to, either.

-- SJ

[Heidi Saxton]

I can identify with much of what you said, EE, having been raised in a church similar to yours. When I was 30, I became Catholic and discovered the gift of confession/reconciliation, which offered me lasting peace. It provided many of the points you listed here -- prayer, someone to listen, action. Most of all, perspective. Anger is like infection ... It alerts the body to the wound beneath in need of healing. God bless you!

[Deborah]

What lovely pictures of some very sweet children.

A few things I do: pray and tell God I'm angry, read a comforting Psalm, take a brisk walk or jog, talk to my hubby who is my best friend, talk to my mom...

Great post. I appreciate your adding the "radical" in front of the word "fundamentalist" - thoughtfully and sensitively done.

God bless you.

[Rebekah]

Thanks, I needed that reminder. I tend to be the venting type and yes, it does just lead to more venting most of the time.

[Ashleigh (Heart and Home)]

The biggest thing for me is admitting my anger to myself. I tend to push, shove and otherwise stuff every emotion as deep as possible because it seems easier than facing reality...