RingoMore personal emo shit. Feel free to skip if you’re here for fighting or any sort of enjoyable writing.
Over the past 2 weeks I’ve had three conversations showing me yet again the problems my Anger causes. I’ve struggled with anger my whole life, all the way back into constant fights on the playground of pre-school. I’ve never really like how my anger made me feel or the things I did or said when I lost control, but I don’t think I’ve ever really realize how strongly it could affect those around me. That was brought home in 3 very frank conversations, 1 where it was revealed how I hurt myself and possibly my partner, another where the potential damage I could cause was explained to me, and the final where I realize how I had hurt another partner significantly without even realizing it.
I haven’t had a really bad outburst in 9 months or so. I haven’t been violent in..I honestly can’t remember the last time. I’ve refrained from destroying things out of anger for years(with the exception of some accidental self harm). I’ve learned to walk away instead of yell and am successful more than half the time when I start to feel the heat building. It doesn’t stop me from seeing red or losing rational thought, but it does help me direct it away from people and burn it off on my own. I’ve been toying with going back to therapy, though mostly for other things, basically thinking, I got this under control.
Boy was I wrong. What I’ve come to start to realize, though I probably have a bunch more to learn, is that while I know I’m in control, no one else does. While I know that an explosion of screaming won’t turn physical, that can never be fully communicated. I know when I’m about to burst and when I’m not. I know what needs to be done and how I have to handle things…but how does that help anyone else who just sees a person seething with rage, fully capable of violent aggressive action. If I do have an outburst, it’s not just my tone that changes. My whole body will tense up preparing for fight or flight and I’ll start to slip into a fighting posture. My fists form, I lean forward, I’m ready for action. I won’t throw a fist though, but again…why should anyone trust that?
How do I know I won’t slip? I mean if my anger is already so tenuously gripped that I can easily slip into rage induced shouting matches, why not blind fury boxing sessions with an unready opponent? If words and actions can provoke me to that level of escalation, what stops it from escalating further? Close to 2 decades of practice reigning it in is what give me confidence. Early, early on, in like 5th grade maybe, after years of getting in trouble for basically attacking kids for things I viewed as slights, I had a teacher pull me to the side and talk to me about my anger. How it felt, what it looked like, what happened to cause it, why I lost control. I learned to identify the onset symptoms. I learned to hold on to it till I could get out of the situation and go burn it off, usually by breaking things, which taught me to keep a supply or useless shit around.
That didn’t always work though, sometimes I couldn’t escape situations. I remember in middle school, when I was first learning to control my outbursts and turn them from violence to something else, I would sometimes find myself trapped in a situation where I felt I couldn’t leave. Sometimes literally trapped by locked doors, or just surrounded by people. I had learned how to stop the rage from coming out as attacks, which is good because it helped stop getting my ass beat by the older boys. I hadn’t yet found a way to hold on to it till later or let it out gradually, or calm myself down. So what happens when you’re a not quite pre-pubescent boy, filled to brim with emotions, and no easy outlet? Comes out in the form of tears. I cried in public alot those two years. At least once in front of the whole school. I remember a girl coming up to me after to be like “I’ve never seen a boy cry before in front of people.” Still not sure if she meant to make fun of me or empathize with me. I was bad at peopling then. Not that I’m great now I guess. Anyway that’s a large portion of why I hate crying, even more than your average red blooded Testosterone filled American Male. I hate it in general, let alone in front of people, but I guess that’s kinda off topic.
Continuing on, in high school I learned better control and added in a method to stop the build up. Apathetic nihilism, with a cheerful veneer and a whole lot of marijuana make for quite antidote for teenage angsty rage. Still, hormones are a powerful thing and I had more than my fair share for rage filled moments. Despite that, despite having a smart mouth, a love of poking buttons and way too little self preservation instinct, I somehow managed not to get in any fights. I learned to descelate, learned to remove myself when I was at the yelling level, before it got to the first level. I destroyed some lockers, messed up a car or two, but no humans and nothing too serious. I was starting to get it under control.
The next decade and a half I learned much finer control. I could usually stop flare ups and force myself to calm down. Alcohol introduced some problems but that’s a story of another struggle for another day. I found a few new release points(thank you bohurt jesus) and basically managed to bottle everything up till I could get to fight day. My temper flares fast and sudden. 0-100 real quick, to quote the most gangster of rappers, Drake. Mostly though that sudden change from calm to angry is gone…at least on the inside.
I’ve learned how to hold it in. How to act and talk calm are goals I’ve pursued, because I know that’s how you resolve things. Shouting doesn’t help. Gesturing wildly doesn’t help. Putting hands on people definitely doesn’t help. For the most part this has resulted in good positive outcomes. I can talk people into seeing my way sometimes. Sometimes I can learn where they are coming from. The conflict can reach a peaceful conclusion while inside all I want to do is put fist through wall.
There is one downside though. When I finally do lose control, it comes even more out of nowhere. A peaceful conversation turns into a yelling match on the drop of a dime. And I’m good at yelling, Drill sergeant good. So what this yields is people walking on eggshells near me when they know I’m pissed. People being afraid that at any moment things will take that dark turn…and sometimes being afraid they will go very dark.
I’ve never hit a lover. I’ve hit girls before when I was a kid. I used to buy that, if she wants to be equal she should take a punch. I used to feel that it was my job to physically inform girls why it was a bad idea to push boundaries, either verbally or physically, because it could turn violent. In short I was a misogynistic bully. Probably worth digging into that to figure out why at some point but for now just knowing it is enough.
I’ve never hit a lover…but I understand those who have. I don’t think it’s ok. I don’t think anyone should ever do it, and it’s a line once crossed, that taints you forever. But I understand it. I get the rage. The need to shut someone up by showing them you are bigger, stronger, more capable of violence. I’ve been there. Watched the emotion grow. And every time I’ve done what I had to do, talked, left, ran, whatever. I won’t become that person.
But I’ve dated a number of women who dated that person. And there are shadows of that person in me. Dark evil shadows I try everyday to push away, but ones that remain to this day unslain. I hope one day I can but I doubt it. That shit is in me deep. And I need to recognize that and do more than hold it back. Because if that’s all I’m doing those around me only have my word that they are safe. They have no guarantees, no ability to feel safe, no chance to put their guard down and relax.
Back to therapy I go then, for this next chapter. If I can’t kill my anger, I can do better to control it. I can do better to show that I have it under control, instead of just showing that it’s there. I can do better to make myself not a threat to those who would be comfortable around me. If my anger has hurt you, made you feel uncomfortable, or just in anyway made your life less, please let me know. I’ll do what I can to make amends and to better myself.