Wednesday 22 May 2013

Awkward reflections on anger

I am an angry person. Not as much now in my old age (heh heh), but years ago, anger was the fuel that fed my fires--it kept me going, stoked my determination, forged my opinions. My anger now has diminished greatly, and only rears its ugly head once in a blue blue moon.

Where my anger before could be a general, all encompassing, hair-triggered rage, it now most commonly manifests itself in the form of targeted firey argument  Strangely, these arguments only happen with my family, or with whoever I happen to be dating at the time. Its not that I hold myself back from argument when I am with friends -- I just never get that angry in the first place when I am around them.

But with my family, yeah . . .it can get pretty explosive. What may start out as something small will inevitably snowball. Hard words will be said, shouting will ensue, and all will culminate in tears. 

What sick, twisted thing lives in me that makes this happen? Why do I pick these fights, and why do I follow them all the way through to their unhappy end?

Part of it, I think, is the need to conquer . . .to control. The dynamic of my family has never been very stable, and my romantic endeavors have also sometimes stood on soft ground. In areas where there is a lack of stability, I think, I become frightened. And given the choice between fight or flight, I guess I tend to pick fight. Dominating an argument even for a short time is some sort of control.

This may also account for why I become exceptionally upset when I find I am not dominating the argument. I have been told I am a bad loser (among other things), and I know its true. When I'm losing an argument, I start feeling like a caged animal. Hysteria rises, and that's when I really start to bite. 

When someone in my immediate family does or says something that makes me angry, I am unable to keep that anger on leash. It tears away from me, and I am a whirlwind of criticism, half-assed logic, and contempt. Normally, I'm a nice person, I think. But when the rage takes over, I think I am also one of the most hateful kinds of people. No blow is too low for me when I get like that. I don't enjoy hurting people, but I just can't seem to stop myself.

I need to learn to hold myself back until the anger fades, and I am able to talk about things less emotionally. The problem is, in some aspects of my life, the anger never really fades at all. It sits back inside of me, a spring coiled, waiting for the moment to pounce. 

I don't know why I'm writing this. Its late and I'm barely awake. I guess I just wanted to share a side of me that most (thankfully) do not get to see. Also, if anyone has any suggestions on better anger management, please help?


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