Anger, Anger, Where Art Thou?

Oh THERE you are! I have been trying to touch you for a LONG time now! I knew you were there, but I just couldn't access you!

I would not have posted yesterday’s post, “Heart. Break.”, a few weeks ago. But I knew my grief was stuck and something that I was doing… or not doing, was blocking it.

 Several people have asked me about my anger in my journey and I haven’t been able to feel it, find it, or express it. Cognitively I know my anger is there, and subconsciously I’m spending enormous amounts of energy containing it, but I haven’t been able to break the surface to let it come forth.

Why?

Because I’m nice.

Because I do the right thing.

Because I choose the higher road.

This past week, as I’ve been practicing trusting in my true self, I’ve realized I need to let go of trying to do ‘the right thing.’ I am who I am. And I am good and perfect the way I am, right now… not even as I grow into some better/wiser self through my journey.

 My son is who my son is. As I trust myself to be myself, I need to trust my son (with his autism) to be himself. He will walk his own path and he has all he needs, in his true self, to do so. I’ve also felt guilt, panic, and exhaustion trying to apply the right choices for him. My course of action in getting therapy for his autism has been timely and appropriate, but now that its in place, I can let my hyper-vigilance relax and allow him just to be his 2 year old self, while I just return to being myself.

As I’ve let go of my expectations and self-imposed parameters (one white knuckle at a time), my anger has finally started to bubble through. What a relief!

Yesterday, as I felt the surge of renewed hurt and betrayal from my ex, I wanted to yell, “GET OUT!!!! JUST GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!!” But I didn’t (mostly to protect my son). And then my ex quietly slipped out, and the hurt surged through my veins even harder.

For the first time ever, I knew I needed to act on my hurt. If I didn’t act on it, I’m never going to heal. So I went into the bedroom, closed the door, and punched an overstuffed pillow, over and over again. I imagined it was my ex. I imagined it was other individuals involved. It went on until I didn’t need to do it anymore.

For most people, this is laughable in terms of expressing anger.

For me, it’s huge... or a huge first step.

I don’t express anger.

 I cry.

I run.

I numb.

But I don’t express anger.

And its literally killing me.

Yesterday I expressed my anger for the first time. First, through the pillow-punching. Second, through posting something that was a little dramatic… a little more raw than I prefer to be out in the public.

Miranda Lambert, the country music artist, has a reputation for having no difficulty expressing herself, in music, and allegedly in person as well. Her current hit song, “This Ain’t My Mama’s Broken Heart” takes it to more of an extreme than the reality I live, but I’m grateful that she does… firstly so I don’t have to. Secondly so the origin of the hurt emerges into humour, thereby bringing healing.

(for the record, it ain’t about my mama… more about the expectations that many of us have been brought up in).