INSIGHT INTO ANGER

What I Found Beneath My Anger

What you may also find

For half of my life — the early half — I’d not been able to get beyond my anger to the feelings beneath it. To the hurt it covered up. I wasn’t able to feel the true cause of my pain.

In my thirties, I found a therapist to help me deal with my childhood trauma.

What follows is an example of a situation that happened a few years ago, and how it relates to anger and getting beneath it to patterns and beliefs.

It all started when I saw a list for an upcoming author’s event and I was not included on the list.

It was then I recalled an earlier email where the registration form that was supposed to be attached, wasn’t. At that time I’d replied to the sender, pointing out the error.

Life got busy — as so often happens — and I didn’t think about not receiving the application form. Not until that list came out and I was not on it.

That was when I got upset. And yes, angry.

But that’s also when I stopped to wonder what was beneath my anger.

What had triggered such a strong reaction? Such anger I seldom feel anymore. What was really upsetting me?

I’ve learned to let my anger settle, not to fly into a rage. Something I often witnessed my parents do.

I didn’t want to demand an answer. Make assumptions. Make accusations. I did not want to take up arms and prepare to fight.

Instead, I wrote about the situation in my journal and dug deeper.

I felt left out. Ignored. Cast aside. Brushed off. Dismissed. That old familiar feeling from childhood. A pattern throughout my life.

But I still dug deeper — to the truth of not feeling good enough.

Had they deliberately left me out? Didn’t want me at the festival. Was I not good enough? Are my books inferior?

Sure. I took it personally.

The feelings of childhood took over. My thoughts ran wild.

Was I not a good enough writer? Presentable enough for the public? Articulate enough? Educated enough? Those thoughts built and stormed until I was so angry at feeling unwanted, abandoned. Unloved.

I had felt this way whenever my mother took in a new boarder. And there were a lot of them throughout the years. Whether these people were young or old, it didn’t matter. All her attention and focus went to them.

These people always took precedence in my mother’s life. They were her addiction.

If I complained or demanded attention, my mother would tell me, “You have everything you need. There’s no need to complain.”

And she’d list all I had: a home, a mother and a father. All the material things they bought me. But she never mentioned the one thing I wanted most — love.

Every time a new person came to live with us, she cast me aside, and I felt not good enough for my mother to love.

Years later, I felt those same feelings of abandonment whenever a lover walked out the door.

Throughout my life, it’s been different situations — but at the root, the same feelings.

As a woman in my 60s, it’s now easy to recognize.

I know I’m good enough. But it’s not always easy convincing all those other parts inside me. All those past Barbara’s. The little Barbara Ann that still feels unloved.

Instead of wallowing in self-pity and victimization, I calmly reached out to the organization and explained the situation. Within a few hours, I had a reply, asking for more information. I forwarded the previous email correspondence.

The next morning, I received the registration form, an apology for the mix-up, and was assured I was part of the festival.

My unresolved issues had triggered those thoughts and feelings. My perception of the situation was not what had really happened. I’d mislead myself. Someone had not snubbed me.

Someone had simply forgotten to my email me. It wasn’t anything personal against me.

I, and I alone, had made it so much worse. I’d attached all those beliefs to a situation based on my past experiences.

Isn’t that how we go often through life? Making a mountain out of a molehill. Going off angry and half-cocked. Making things personal when they’re not personal at all.

Part of healing from the past and getting beneath your anger is uncovering these old feelings and beliefs. To examine them for what they are. To finally allow yourself the opportunity to heal.

It’s hard facing these old feelings. But it becomes easier.

The more you practice doing it, the more quickly you move through those feelings. No longer stuck or trapped in your anger. Held hostage by your past, by limiting beliefs.

Those thoughts and beliefs come from that hurt little child within you. As an adult, you can learn how to care for that part.

Take a breath. Look within. Search beneath your anger at what’s really there.

What patterns in your life might you be repeating? What old ways of thinking might you still cling to?

Let go of the old and start anew.

One of my favourite books to help in this is The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz.

Two agreements: Don’t take anything personally. Don’t make assumptions.

That is what I’d done: I’d taken it personally, made assumptions, made myself miserable.

But I’d also gotten beneath my anger and learned from the experience, as you can, too.

I also recommend another great book: Triggers: How We Can Stop Reacting and Start Healing by David Richo.

BARBARA CARTER is a visual artist and writer with a focus on healing from childhood trauma, alcohol addiction, and living her best authentic life.