I was going to write this post on another way my religion has helped me overcome my anger issues, but what if you're not religious? You might blow off this blog and never get the help you need. I figured I could validate my post by appealing to the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. After all, it's been used in a million other ways. The problem arose with the first step.
1. We admitted we were powerless over our [anger]--that our lives had become unmanageable.
The problem is our anger serves us as a tool of power. That's what it's all about! So how the heck do we admit that we're power-less? I hope it doesn't take you as long as it took me. My road to recognizing my powerlessness started when I was a young mother, but it wasn't a lights on thing. It was an evolution.
It started when my oldest daughter was about four. She had this little two shelf bookcase. As I recall we had it in the living room of our apartment. One day all her books were strewn on the floor and I asked her to pick them up. She tried but made a terrible job of it. In frustration I started hurling condemning words at her with each book I took off the jumbled pile.
I know, you're thinking, "Hello, she's freaking four-years-old!" Remember, we're not talking about a sane person here. I had let anger take control of my life.
Eventually my flying words were accompanied with books, and one of them hit my innocent little girl across the bridge of the nose. The realization of what I had done horrified me and my anger died instantly.
Of course I did the usual repenting, saying I was sorry and I'd never do it again. And I didn't. Well, I threw things a couple times, but I always made sure it wasn't gonna get close to anyone. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Rationalizing! Aaaaugh!
She had a black eye for a while, but other than that she was okay and I figured the incident was over.
Shortly afterward someone asked my little girl how she got the black eye and she told them, "Mommy hit me." Great! Next thing I knew there were policemen at my door. They checked her out, we told them the situation and they went away. Later they called and told me to take a parenting class, which I did.
Another time my little girl and I were walking along hand in hand when she decided she didn't want to go along. She didn't fuss. I didn't tug. She just sat down, totally taking me by surprise. Her elbow became dislocated. When we took her to the doctor he asked the necessary questions, probing abuse possibilities. I knew I was totally innocent of any wrong doing this time, and I was so relieved!
I'd like to say all my troubles with anger ceased and desisted from then on, but as I said before, I had given up my control. What's more, I didn't know it! At least, if I did, I wouldn't admit it, even to myself.
Do yourself a favor. Just say it! "I'm powerless over my anger. It has me whipped!" Then you'll be ready to find out where to get help.
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