Everyone gets angry. It's a natural response when a threat comes into your world. You fear it could destroy you, so you either run, or you stay and fight it off and destroy that which makes you fearful. Some people can calm themselves after an angry situation, and they either deal with it or they stuff it down to the cores of their soul and file it away to be forgotten forever. Others fly off the handle and blow up, and when the red-eye has faded, all they see is the destruction they've caused. Anger problems occur when the fear never subsides, and it still breathes life into their hearts.
I have an anger problem. It's not one that causes me to be explosive, as I keep a tight lid on my emotions. My anger is much more below the radar. I've allowed it to eat me up from the inside at times, and it was the factor that caused a lot of relationship casualties. I wish I could say I've gotten over it. All those anger management classes say you can get over it, and all it takes is letting go of that which causes you to be angry. Anyone who knows the real fiend-- Anger, the demonic brute-- knows that is all bullshit.
People with real anger know that Anger is born long before you learn the powers of self-recognition. It's a tiny troll that has been leaked into your mind and takes up residence before you even realize that such a being could exist. Anger finds its nest in the part of your mind where you used to hold the iridescent snapshots of beautiful childhood memories, from a time before the reality of unruly, heartless chaos tore down the walls of your innocence. Anger replaces your puerile fantasies with a moving picture-show, starring Fear, Anguish, Loneliness and Helplessness, then hits playback and repeat. Anger makes your food taste different, because it eats up the pleasure of the flavor to feed its own selfish hunger. One eats, but is never satisfied. Anger grows steadily, until you realize it has become something bigger than yourself. Anger is the monster under your bed, the ghost in your closet, the ghoul in every shadow, the face of your every nightmare.
You grow a bit older, and you find that you can never be truly alone because Anger follows you everywhere. It senses the hate in every heart, and tells you that the hate exists because you exist. Anger tells you that you are the problem, and no one will be content until you know this is true. Anger has grown strong enough to wrangle every part of your being into wretched, pitiful submission, and bleeds itself into the open spaces it cleared. Anger begins to spill from your every pore, it weaves itself into every strand of hair and calcifies every nail, and pours its venom into your bloodstream. Anger is the alien parasite that invades your every cell, poisons your mind, and takes its place as the reigning tyrant of your soul.
The years pass, and you find that Anger has turned you into a shell, eating away everything you knew about yourself. Anger has nothing left to feed on, so it begins its search for fresh meat, eating away at the people around you; and you, the miserable, woeful slave, will do nothing to stop it from consuming the ones you love. You are chained to the illusions of guilt and shame that Anger created to keep you in a place where Anger will always be able to dictate, lead and conquer. Your self-imposed crimes keep you weak in Anger's presence, while you watch as those you love the most distance themselves from you. Anger convinces you that it is because of the filthiness of your existence that they all run away. Anger brainwashes you into believing that no one could ever love you, while making sure that the love in your heart is eradicated.
Anger whispers into your ear:
"They don't love you, you're just their slave,
To serve their needs when it's blood they crave,
No one could love a dirty whore,
That's why they run and shut the door.
You have no beauty-- you are a sin,
and everyone knows it, deep within.
You have no talent, you are a waste,
Looking at you leaves a bitter taste.
You know why you're so easy to toss?
You have no value that counts as a loss.
The only one who can tolerate you is me,
Without my presence you'll never be free,
You could not breathe if not from my word,
I am all that protects you from the herd,
You're just a leftover of one's mistake,
So just give up, for everyone's sake..."
How do you break free from this devil? When you've become exhausted from drudging along while carrying anchors on your back, waiting for death to come but never revealing itself, when Anger has consumed every last article and fiber, what saves you?
Find your power within. Your soul is its own source of energy, the capacity to bring light to break down the columns that Anger has built confine you. That power is fueled by Love, the menacing angel that Anger itself fears. No matter how many people you have or don't have in your life, you still have Love, and that comes from the Love you have for yourself. Anger works to keep you believing that you could not exist without it. But remember- Anger fed itself off of everything good about you, therefore, Anger cannot exist without you. Love in your soul is more powerful than any element on this Earth, and it has the power to destroy all that is destructive without ever having to subject itself to the tactics that Anger imposed upon you.
Build up your Love: Embrace all those around you, those you love and those you don't. Lift yourself by lifting the hearts of those who need the parachute. Save the lives of those whom Anger has shackled to the pillars of Shame and Disgrace. Bathe them with the warm waters of true Love, and when they feel themselves clean, they will find the strength to break their own chains. When you see all these poor souls wake up from the dream-like state built upon the lies of Anger, they will destroy their own demons and make their way back to themselves.
While it is true that you won't save everyone, what matters is the lives you did save, and that those lives go on to find those talents of which they'd thought they lost forever, and they use them to better the world-- that is the greatest expression of Love one can bestow.
I have an anger problem. But the problem isn't Me.
