joyful2beeblogs

I have trouble coping with anger. Generally, the most angry I have been has been righteous indignation over mistreatment of someone, some country, or some animal.

Growing up in my family, we rarely were angry at each other. I remember only two, maybe three big arguments my parents had when I was young. While growing up, we siblings had disagreements and sibling rivalry, of course. But we all got along pretty well.

While married to my husband, he became emotionally abusive and, on a few occasions, physically abusive. I felt that the cause of his anger was my fault, so I didn’t get angry back at him for years. I bore the blame of so many failings, mistakes, misjudgments, and “disobedience” that I blamed myself for being a bad wife, mother, and failure, as a human being.

Until one day, I finally got mad and defended myself verbally against someone else’s rudeness. Later, I regretted saying something I shouldn’t have said, so I decided to keep my anger under lock and key so I wouldn’t hurt someone unnecessarily, or say something that wasn’t true. I was also afraid of blasting someone about something and then finding out later that I hadn’t had all of the facts before I spoke. Then, I would have felt terrible for hurting someone for the wrong reasons.

The other day, I learned something about my anger. While eating supper with an old friend, I explained to her why I had ended a friendship with a friend we had had in common. The ex-friend asked me to do something immoral for her friend. Firmly, without missing a beat, I refused. When she later invited me to lunch, she trapped me into meeting those very people to try to get me to reconsider. I was furious!

Now, I could not trust a friend I had known for at least 7 years. We had traveled together, eaten lunches together, shopped together, and she even helped me move out of my house and helped put my belongings in storage. She had been a true friend.

So when she apologized, I forgave her. Later, another situation occurred in which she was not telling me the whole truth. I found this out when I asked questions that showed that more responsibility would have been placed on me than she had told me. For that, I changed my mind. I was angry with her, and soon after, I ended the relationship.

Several months later, I was explaining all of this to my present friend. I kept getting angrier and speaking about my ex-friend in an increasingly louder voice, as I tried to explain the events of the friendship’s demise.

Later at home, I was puzzled by so much anger over something that had happened several years ago. I did forgive her, I just couldn’t trust her anymore. Why was I still angry at her? The answer came the next evening.

Norie, my black cat, at that time, rarely wanted to sit in my lap. When she did, I tried to be careful and considerate by not overstimulating her with too much petting. I learned to observe her by watching her signals that she was getting uncomfortable.

So when I saw her switching tail, her flattened ears, and staring eyes watching my hand, I stopped touching her. I thought I was being very careful by stopping my petting of her for a while, then when she relaxed, petting her some more.

What I didn’t know then, that I finally understood was: that petting her at intervals had a cumulative effect. Suddenly, she lunged at my hand and nipped me enough to say, “STOP IT!”

In my wounded mind and ignorance, I shoved her off of my lap and started yelling at her about how much I had done for her to give her a good life, and how I tried to respect her wishes and comfort zones and how much I loved her. In my anger, I even called her a “dumb cat!” (I adore my cat and have never spoken ill of her like that before or after.)

Then I started crying. I felt betrayed, hurt, and unloved. I didn’t deserve to be treated like that. I must say she barely broke the skin and could have bitten much harder. But at that time, it was like a slap in the face to me. As I ranted at her, I added my ex-friend’s name. I cried from the hurt and betrayal of them both.

Then I sobbed hysterically over the pain and “betrayal” of my husband. Even though he had physical problems and issues, he hurt me emotionally. That hurt has taken almost 10 years to start freeing myself from it! I did NOT deserve that pain.

Finally, the sobbing subsided. I realized that I had stored up a lot of pain that I had not dealt with when it was caused. The pain had been neatly tucked away, hidden, and I thought, forgiven. But by tucking away the pain I had suffered in order to forgive and to forget, I had failed to realize the damage that had been done to me. Even though I had tried very carefully to do away with it all, the anger had been sitting on a slow boil for years to prevent a big, messy, boiling over. I didn’t want to feel anger or pain because I might say something I shouldn’t say or that I might regret later.

With my husband, I had to store a lot of anger and pain out of fear of making him more angry. The truth was I had been hurt emotionally so many times and sealed it away under a simmering anger that it all boiled over when Norie nipped my hand.

From this I learned: Recognize and figure out what you are feeling; feel the pain and recognize it separately from anger; try to diffuse some of the negative energy of the anger; realize the cause, and resolve whatever pain you feel with prayer, meditation, running, walking, exercising, writing a letter to them and deciding if you want to send it to them or not. These are a few ways to be healed.

Anger and rage that continues over the years will cause physical problems and can change your body, brain, and even cellular activity for the worst.

Frequent or long-term anger or rage can kill you. I know this. This is what precipitated a lot of my husband’s mental and physical health problems, and I believe finally, his death.