Anger Management

Hello, my name is Je’Niece and I have a problem with anger.  I think my anger problem may even require anger management.  But not anger management in its traditional sense. My anger issue isn’t the traditional I get so angry I lash out problem.  My problem is that I have to learn how to express my anger.  My usual tendency is to suppress my anger.  Actually, I think it might be more accurate to say that I actually deny my anger.  As far back as I can remember, I have been unable to truly express my anger.  I sometimes even feel guilty for becoming angry.  I immediately begin to rationalize all the reason why I should not be angry and then I try to behave as if I am not.  Of course this doesn’t work to alleviate the anger.  It simply makes it last longer.  After all, what you resist persists. 

I’m not sure where this aversion to anger came from.  I remember having some very visceral reactions to my father’s anger as a child.  My dad was a major hot head who would blow up first and deny later.  He would get so angry that he would lash out and after he calmed down, he would have very little memory of what he said while angry.  I remember thinking that was no way I wanted to behave nor did I wish to make anyone feel the way my dad made me and so many others feel.  I also remember that my mother did not express her anger very well either.  She bottled her anger and acted out passive aggressively.  Maybe I am modeling what I saw her do.  Maybe on some unconscious level I decided that I do not want to be like my dad.  Maybe in some past life I was a terrible dictator who ruled with anger and so in this lifetime, I’m working out how to deal with it.  Whatever it is, I need to deal with it.  Who knows cause I don’t.  Maybe I’m just like my father, too bold.  Maybe I’m just like my mother, she’s never satisfied.  Maybe I’m just too demanding.  But all I know is this is what it sounds like when the doves cry. 

Anyway, I used to classify anger as one of those “bad” emotions.  It’s negative.  It makes one behave foolishly and harmfully.  It eats away at ones soul and breaks down the brick wall of peace.  What I know today is that while all of that can happen, anger can be a cathartic emotion.  If used in a serving manner, anger can be fuel to move to one’s greatest heights.  What I know today is that there are no “good” or “bad” emotions.  There are simply emotions and like anything else, too much or too little of any of them can be toxic. What I know today is that I can’t think away emotions.  While logic has its place, so does feeling.  My refusal to express my anger hinders me.  It has impeded my ability to resolve conflicts.  I think it also fueled my limited self-confidence.  I think my inability (or maybe even refusal) to express my anger has only resulted in my anger growing.  And I think I began to direct that anger toward myself. 

As I continue to grow and mature in life, I’m really gaining an understanding and an appreciation for the dichotomy of life.  While I know I am much more at home with the thinking rational side of life, I recognize the need and importance for the feeling.  I don’t have to be afraid to feel.  I don’t have to be afraid to get angry.  Hell, there are some things worth getting angry over!  Then why do I have such a gosh darn hard time expressing my anger?  I think one of the reasons is because up until a short while ago, I never felt worthy enough to be able to express myself to others.  My unspoken rule was always Everyone else is more important than I.  As such, what right did I have to become angry with anyone?  I also think I didn't recognize that being angry and acting reckless do not have to be exclusive to one another.  I do not have to lash out at anyone to express my anger--though that seems to be the norm.  Another reason I think I have had such a difficult time expressing anger is that I have confused holding on to anger with expressing it.  I consider myself to be a spiritual individual.  I think spiritual laws are always at play.  But one of the misconceptions of the spiritual (and even religious) ideology is that anger isn’t a good thing.  Think about it.  How many times have you heard something like: Anger is a poison, or Whoever you’re angry with has control over your life, and my favorite Anger is one letter away from Danger, and all of that jazz *cue the dancers*  What is never said is that anger is healthy.  The Bible even talks about Jesus' righteous anger.  I think the healthy thing to do is to acknowledge your anger, deal with it and let it pass.  So I know that means I’ll have to do a much better job with my anger management.  I can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist.  And I can’t judge myself for getting angry.  So far I’ve tried journaling, deep breathing techniques, and I even tried that screaming into the pillow trick.  Cant tell for sure if any of them have worked.  I guess I’ll find out the next time I get angry.  Hell, maybe I just might join an anger management support group. 

How Much Writing Should a Writer Really Write?

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So I had a post all ready to for today and then something happened last night that inspired me to change my mind and write this piece.  Last night, as my ex dropped off our daughter, he initiated a conversation about the welfare of our daughter that was well over due.  He said he would like for us to work together for her benefit—something we both have failed miserably at doing.  I gotta say I was beyond proud that he brought the issue to me and I was quite proud of us as co-parents.  It was a first for us—but one that I’m hopeful will not be singular in nature.   But that’s not the point to this post.  During our conversation, he said that he would like for us to work collaboratively and that working collaboratively does not involve blasting someone on a blog.  Now this was implying that this is something I do here on my space.  I had to interject to let him know that at no point have I ever “blasted” him.  This here blog is my space.  Terri McMillan once said that she writes because it’s therapy for her and I have definitely found that to be true for me. The words I share on this space are all about my life experience and me.  It’s all about lessons I’ve learned or am learning.  It’s never about blasting another human being to make them look bad--least of all him.  As a matter of fact, I did a check just to make sure I wasn't being dismissive.  This post right here is my 49th post on this blog.  Of the 49 posts, 4 (including this one here) actually mention my ex husband, one post talks about him without actually saying it is.  There isn't anything about ex, husband, ex husband, his name, occupation, or any identifying property.  Of the 3 that mention him, only 2 are actually about a specific experience I had with him.  And of those 2, the focus is not on him, but on me and what I learned or took away from the experience.  The other 2 merely mention him in saying how he is my ex husband.  So, the fact that he feels he gets "blasted" on here is kind of beyond me.   But he's entitled to his feelings.  I'm almost sure that if he reads this he will feel this is a blast as well.  But it's really not.  The conversation (and my own reaction) got me to thinking.  I honestly didn't like the fact that he implied that I blast him on here.  I didn't like that I felt as if I had to defend my work.  However, I recognize that is my issue.  One thing I'm very comfortable with now is the fact that I am a writer.  As such, I am inspired by everything around me.  Sometimes my daughter inspires me to write.  Am I blasting my 6 year old for sharing experiences and lessons I've had with her?  Sometimes I'm inspired by watching my family and friends.  Are they also being blasted?  Sometimes I'm even inspired by television and film, and social media.  Again, are those mediums being blasted through my share?  Hell, if that's the case, I blast myself each time I post because this whole blog is about little ole me.  It's a funny thing as a writer because you will eventually deal with criticism and possible fall out from those close to you because they don't appreciate you including them in your work.  And I recognize that this is an issue that writers have faced probably since the beginning of autobiographical writing.  How do you share your story without offending those around you? Is it even possible to not offend those close to you when you write personal narrative?

The answer, in my humble opinion, is that you cannot.  As a writer, you are bound to piss someone off, hurt their feelings, and leave them scorned, or flat out resentful of how they feel you have portrayed them in your narrative.  And you know what?  That’s ok.  You write anyway.  There is no reason a writer should limit his or herself—and certainly not because someone may not like what they said.  I will say this.  I do understand how he feels.  I’m even sympathetic.  I have often asked myself, how would I feel if anyone in my life wrote about a shared experience with me?  And I’ve had to do a really hard gut check.  Honestly, I do not know how I would feel.  I may be elated at what I read.  Or I may be hurt and feel betrayed.  I may have to face that the dear sweet me that I have in my head may not be the same me that someone else feels they have encountered.  As sobering as that thought is, I'm aware that the reality is that I can feel whatever way I feel about it.  It’s my right to feel.  However, I do not have a write to stifle or stop that person from writing about their experience.  Now that is entirely their right.  I know what my intentions have been to those in my life. However, I have no idea whatsoever how my actions have affected them.  And if they choose to write about it, I must accept and respect their experience for just that—THEIR experience--however unfavorable I may deem that to be.

About a year and a half ago, I was talking to a professional writer whom I know.  I was asking about how I should go about writing my book.  She told me to just write and not worry about anything or anyone else.  In my attempt at writing my book about my life with my dad, I have stumbled and just been plain ole’ blocked.  One of the first blockages I experienced involved my inability to write about my life experiences in their entirety for fear of what the other players involved would think or feel.  Starting this blog and getting comfortable with my voice has helped to alleviate my fear.  That is why I’m so proud of myself.  If this were probably just a year ago, that one little blip in the conversation (and it really was just a blip) with my ex would have sent me into a writing hijinx.  I would have begun doubting myself.  I would have probably decided that his feelings are more important than mine and concluded that I should no longer use my voice. I probably would have started to censor myself and anyone who writes can tell you what a mistake that is.  But today is a brand new day and I've got a brand new bag.  And again, I’m sympathetic to his feelings.  I really am.  However, I extend that same sympathy to myself.  I recognize that I have every right to share my story.  I also know that my intentions are not to harm him (or anyone else for that matter), or to make him look bad.   My intent is to share what I have learned in the hopes that it can help or inspire another.  That is all. 

I will say that I always find it funny that most people tend to have a problem with a writer sharing their experience if they feel it portrays them in a “negative” manner.  Rarely have I heard anyone who believes they look good in a story say, “I don’t appreciate you making me look so good in your story. Why don't you keep me out of your stuff!”  But that's just my observation.  And to be honest, that's their issue.  As a writer, one is only responsible for maintaining their artistic integrity when they tell their story.  The reaction of others is not their responsibility.  In my opinion, it's the same thing as dealing with someone's opinion of you.  It's really none of your business because their perspective has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with their own self.  My ex said he read my blog.  Now I'm not sure if that means he's read every post, or the 5 that involve him, or one of the 5.  But I don't mind at all.  That’s more than fine with me. I'm not ashamed of anything I've written because I know it was written with love and truth.  If he reads this, I hope he has a better understanding of where I’m coming from.  I hope he now gets that this space is not about him at all.  I also hope he understands that the hard truth is that I'm not going to stop writing.  Should I feel the urge to share an experience that he either was or is a part of (seeing as how we are still in one another's life), I will share it--as I am at this moment.  I will write as my heart moves me and I cannot, nor will I, stifle myself for someone else.  I've done that for far too long already.  I will write not to blast anyone, but to share the ABC's of me.  That is all.  And I hope he gets that.  I hope he can now understand that this space, and the words they contain are not about making him look bad or “blasting” him as he calls it. I hope he can move beyond his own perspective to see mine.  And while that is my hope, I am thankfully in a space where I can hope for that without becoming attached to the need for that to actually happen.

So what say you?  Any other writers out there who have dealt with the fallout of someone in your life due to your words?  How have you navigated through the murky waters of maintaining your artistic integrity while being sensitive to the players in your life?  Anyone out there have a writer friend/family member who you felt portrayed you not so favorably?  How did you deal?  Let’s talk about it cause I’d love to hear about it. 

My So Called Writer's Life

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I don’t know about you, but when I watch television or movies, I like to get lost in them. While I’m ok with stretching my imagination to enjoy a good movie, I need the writing to be so well done that it won’t have to stretch too far.  I need to be able to see the point of view of the characters to be able to really say I enjoyed the program.  Sadly, this does not happen often enough.  However, there is a central theme I’ve noticed in many programs, that while I know that it’sprobably due to the amount of running time the writers and directors have, have always befuddled my little ole mind. That theme is how quickly the characters seem to recover from traumatic events, relationships, setbacks, etc. I mean in the span of one movie, you can watch a heroine lose her man to her best friend, lose her job, have her home broken into, lose her savings, and venture on the verge of homelessness only to be in love with the man of her dreams, VP of her own company, making plenty of money, and with new friends—and have the fortunate experience of having her trifling ex and ex bestie see her prosper while they are now broken up, full of the herpes, and completely embarrassed.   Now don’t get me wrong, I recognize this doesn’t apply to every program or movie, but there are an overwhelming number of them in which this is true.  You’ve got to admit, the recovery time in movies or TV is beyond quick. And trust me, I do get it, it’s just a movie, or a show, but I told you I like to get engrossed in them.  Now because I can be such an over thinker, it’s made me wonder, what would my life look like if I had a room full of writer’s writing it out for me? 

If I had a writer for my life, would I have been able to get over the heartbreak I endured my senior year in high school when I learned that my first love was cheating on me? Instead of going through months of angst and breaking up to make up with him, would I have cried for two weeks straight, then moved on to my all time high school crush?  What about the devastation of being an unsuccessful college student?  For the first time in my life, I wasn’t an overachiever.  I was a struggler.  My perfectly unblemished academic career was suddenly chocked full of unsightly blemishes in the forms of hideous letters I’d never seen before on my grade reports.  Letters like C and D.  Oh I shudder at the memory!  And don’t even get me started on my marriage!  What material my writers would have with that one.  But anywhoo . . . I have reflected over the events of my life and wondered.  Just a little something to make me go hmm . . . And then the light bulb over my head flipped to the on position.  I do have a writer!  There is someone who is creating the events, the reactions to the events, and all that has been, all that will be, and all the in betweens.  It’s me!  I am a co-creator with the Universe on the story that is my life. 

While Life has dealt me a stack of cards, it has been I who has decided which card would be combined and played to be the winning or losing hand.  That senior year heartbreak?  Yeah I decided to lament for months and do the back and forth dance with him.  My college academic career?  Yeah it was I who decided to go in as a Biology Pre-Med student knowing full well that I had no interest in Science and I am a complete right side, creative soul.  And my marriage? Yep, written, directed, starring ME!  I decided to marry my ex knowing full well I didn’t believe we should and knowing I couldn’t and didn’t see us lasting very long. 

I am the writer of my life.  I create the story for my life.  Sometimes I wish I’d realized this sooner, but I recognize that at any given moment, we are exactly where we need to be.  I wrote the stories best suited for me at the moment and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.  Now I have some experience behind me so I know a little more and instead of writing the ultra complex stories of my youth, I can write simpler, more care free stories for my present and future.  I mean, who better to write my own story than I, the one living it?

Like most stories, sometimes my character’s story seems completely implausible.  Sometimes my character’s motivations are completely irrational.  Sometimes my character’s actions are misguided and she makes me want to scream and throw things at the screen.  Sometimes I want to cheer my character on and give her a great big ole hug.  Sometimes I want to send her to her room with no dinner.  But most times, I’m really fond of my character and the story that I see unfolding.  And if I don’t like where the story is going, I just make a new choice and re write the whole thing.   Besides, I think my character is way more interesting than any thing that I’ve seen on a mere screen. But that's just the way I see it.