Saturday, April 25, 2009

anger is difficult!

Growing up in a conflict-avoidant family that used sarcasm, bullying and other forms of passive aggression instead of open expression of anger, I never learned how to use it (anger, I mean). 'Permission' to use anger seemed to be split on strict gender lines: Men could be assholes, women were meant to be doormats (yeah, no misogyny or anything in my family. No ma'am.)

In fact, I never even knew I was angry until my mid- late 30s, when several male friends said, unsolicited, Wow - you're really angry. And I thought, I am? Huh. Interesting.

It didn't make much of an impression until the third or fourth person said the very same thing within about a 6-month period. It was a relatively short time after my ex and I had split up (5 years together, owned a house, not married, no kids), and I think, in retrospect, that I was angry about many, many unresolved issues between the two of us, which I would never get a chance to resolve because he'd already moved on to a new relationship. And in any case, our inability to resolve, or even discuss, emotional issues was pretty much what did us in in the first place.

That, compounded with leftover unresolved feelings after my father's death 8 years earlier, sent me off down the road of beginning to try to untangle all the old stuff. It was slow going at first, and I didn't really dig in for another 3 or 4 years.

Anyway, today I came across something that seems useful about dealing with anger:

From Elaine Aron's HSP site, an artical on HSP teens and 'dealing with strong feelings':

"The point is, think strategically. Use your anger to your advantage, not to your disadvantage. Anger is the most moral emotion. When you express your reason for your anger in the right way (often without needing to express any actual anger), it simply tells others they have gone too far. If well done it should not cause a big flare up back. Your anger actually helps them know what you like and not do what you do not like. They are doing something to you that is wrong for you. Your anger keeps them from doing it again. "Good fences make good neighbors." Your anger is like one of those invisible fences that gives a dog a zap when it crosses it. After a few times, it stays in its yard.

What is the right way to express anger? In a way that does not make the person feel ashamed. When people are ashamed they become what we call defensive. They will blame you instead, or deny they did anything wrong, or say you do it too. If they think you are saying they have done something wrong, they may feel you are also saying they are a bad person. Then it is as if you have thrown a sticky shame ball at them. They don't want it, so they throw it back at you. "You started it, not me." "I didn't cut in line--you were so slow I went around you."

I must say I think that much of the rest of her 'advice' sounds like someone who's either never been a parent or has never been in the situations she's describing - her suggestions are a bit glib and unrealistic for my taste. Nonetheless, the quoted segment (mostly) rings true for me.

1 comment:

kitty said...

Hi Grasshopper,

I went thru a similar process of realizing I was an angry person, and around the same time, my early-mid thirties. After several incidences in a row like those you name, it hit me that yes, I was an angry person. For a long time, I felt incredibly ashamed about that, like it somehow validated all the bad thoughts and beliefs I'd ever had about myself. God, it was an awful place to be. It took a long time to work thru that and accept it about myself and realize DUH, of course I'm angry! It would be impossible to grow up in the family I did and NOT be angry. I looked at my sisters, still completely dissociated from their anger and stuck in their train-wreck lives, tragically re-creating new versions of their childhood experience, and knew there was a connection. I, having had the awareness, was the lucky one. I could move past it. They couldn't (and remain stuck to this day).

It was the same in my family: my father (the only male in the family) got to be angry, none of the rest of us did. If we were, we were shamed, ridiculed, or beaten. My mother was incredibly passive-aggressive and hostile, a tragically common (I see now) coping mechanism for people, esp. women, in relationships with an unequal balance of power. I spent most of my adult life in similar power struggles with men, oblivious. Today I understand that owning my anger was the only way to stop doing that.

I am still an angry person--so what? I embrace it! The big lie foisted on me as a child was that anger was bad. Now I know why I was taught to believe that: because our anger challenged the power structure in the family, and my tyrant father wanted his women weak in order to not confront his own feelings of powerlessness. The truth is that anger is where our power lies, and if we understand that, it becomes one of the greatest tools for self-care and even connection. Because my father abused his power, that was a very confused idea for me and took me a long time to sort out. My legacy is probably to never be fully comfortable with my own power. And I am sad about that. But it doesn't consume me as it used to, and that's progress.

SO much more to say on this, but I'll end here. Good stuff, and I'm enjoying your blog very much!

Kitty