From as way, way back as I can remember, anger has plagued my life and unfortunately it’s my go-to response with any situation where there’s injustice of some description. I’ve not to this day learned to temper my anger.. Whether it’s my life or something I’ve read about or seen, anger is my modus operandi. I don’t like it but it’s a knee-jerk response. I’ve tried to be calm but it feels fake. It’s as if the angry me IS me and I can’t recognise myself without it. And to not respond angrily or raise my voice will be an injustice to me. It’s not normal anger though. It’s a toxic anger that lingers and simmers way after the event. And it’s often over trivial things that aren’t important where I feel someone has ‘gotten the better of me’.
For instance, on Saturday, just a few days ago, I went to a local retail park to collect some flea spray (yes, my furry baby has fleas again even though I use a spot on – how even is that possible??!!? Plus he’s just getting over cat flu…oh the drama…) Anyway, I was with my mum and we got back to the car. As we were getting in, I noticed a woman parked opposite me was getting into her car. As I switched my engine on and started to gently reverse the car, (making sure I don’t hastily knock someone down), the stupid bitch (who had augmented filler-filled fish lips) drove out of her space very hastily past me, through the empty space next to me, nearly causing an accident if I hadn’t slammed my breaks on!! Of course she didn’t engage eye contact as squeezed past in her car, knowing exactly what she was doing. I was enraged and incensed!! It welled up inside me like an uncontrollable volcano! Suffice to say I got really angry as I backed out and drove away. If I’d have gotten hold of her, I would have clubbed her multiple times over the head with a baseball bat rendering her unable to drive ever again. And I was wishing that someone else cuts her up and fucks a few moments of her day up. Yes it’s an over-reaction, yes it’s petty, yes I get that angry, and yes I get that triggered by small things (which lasted half the duration of the journey home).
I just couldn’t let it go because I couldn’t get the anger out of me. That’s how it feels when I get so enraged. I need to somehow get this anger out of me as if it were something real. But I can’t. And so I turned it onto my mother (and I get angry with her ALL the time). If we were just a few minutes earlier, that incident wouldn’t have happened. But because my mum wasn’t quick thinking enough to remain in the queue she was in at the checkout, and decided to go onto a new checkout that had just opened up (which had cash register issues and caused more delays), we would’ve left the store earlier, I wouldn’t have come across the stupid filler-filled trout pout bitch face and I wouldn’t have erupted like Mount Etna. Not it’s not fair on my mum but then her lack of quick thinking irritates me to death,
That being said my anger is most definitely a trauma-based response and trigger, when I am completely dysregulated. Of course the adult thing to do would be to regulate myself and sooth myself in the moment: to breathe, to hum, to tell myself I’m being triggered and not to fall for it, to tell myself it’s ok, it’s only something small – just like you would with a dysregulated baby or small child. And therein lies the crux – I have a wounded child inside me who was wronged and internalised a lifetime’s rage, despair and anger in that moment which wasn’t expressed that now lives in me an unresolved pain, and which is inflicted on every arsehole who wrongs me (in my eyes). I will write about the childhood stuff, I know I haven’t yet. I guess I’m just chronicling what’s happening and how I’m feeling almost daily and almost real time….
If baring my soul to you (and the world) has moved or touched a part of you in any way, then your support would be very welcome. To help me on this healing journey, perhaps you’d like to buy me a coffee (although mines a tea) via the link below:
Leave a Reply