The pain behind the anger

“Feel it. That thing you don’t want to feel. Feel it. And be free.” [Nayyirah Waheed]

It’s pain. Pain behind the anger. And it’s behind the anger, not underneath the anger, because it’s more as if the anger were like a veil hiding the pain.

I tend to be a joyful (and I believe also incorrigibly optimistic) person. When I get upset my “go-to feeling” is anger. I don’t hold grudges but I fire up and can feel anger extremely intensely in the moment and for a while later.

I’ve always been like this. Only relatively recently, though, have I discovered that my anger often is a shield for my pain: often when I get angry it’s actually because I’m deeply hurt.

I’m strong and independent but also extremely sensitive, I feel very intensely and deeply. So I guess anger, particularly as a “go-to” emotion, is a way of protecting myself. In that way, I think it’s helpful and healthy for me, especially since I don’t hold grudges.

“Feel it. That thing you don’t want to feel. Feel it and be free.”

Yesterday, it was anger. Today it’s pain, some sadness, even some disappointment – and these deeper emotions are the true source of yesterday’s anger.

Yesterday’s anger was real and justified. A person I’ve known for a while, for the n-th time did something unprofessional/impolite/immature/inconsiderate towards me. That’s a fact and a just cause for irritation. But the justified anger I felt towards this person wasn’t the whole of it: there was also anger towards myself for letting something happen that had already happened so often before in similar ways. I was frustrated with myself. For caring too much, I guess.

And this morning the deeper emotions and causes have surfaced: the pain, the sadness. Pain and sadness because yesterday’s incident left me with the clearer sensation of there not being any space for me, of there not being any room for mutuality, for me to be really seen, in this relationship.

And actually, in this moment, I should say “in these relationships”: because incidents last week with another person who’s very close and dear to me also left me with the same clear sensation of there not being any room for mutuality – at least, not now.

With neither of these persons is this a new situation or sensation: it’s all happened before, with both of them.

I’m slowly learning to set better boundaries that are healthier for myself and keep a healthy distance if/when necessary. But incidents still happen where I’m caught unawares: incidents that lead my anger to flare up, leaving me to have to deal with the debris of the explosion, and then under all the rubble finding that same pain, again.

These explosions are getting smaller, though, and less destructive. And under the rubble I think I’m learning to also find little treasures and blossoms in the debris.