A lot of anger welled up in me this week. I tried to blame other people for perceived wrongs, but today I saw it and felt it emanating from inside of me. It’s a monster with a persona I crafted and used to great effect in my teen years. I had been surrounded by bullies for much of my youth. I was small, geeky, totally different. For years I was smart enough and fast enough to keep away from any real harm. Then, when I was twelve or so, I witnessed someone being bullied in school. It was just words, but the kid was big. Unprovoked, I threw some smart-assy dig at him. Before he could turn his attention to me I hit him with another. He was on his heels and I got the taste of that power. That year I decided that the world was made up of victims and victimizers. And damn if I would be a victim.
I didn’t steal lunch money or knock books out of hands, I used my energy and love of a good, nasty joke to build walls of safety and to strike out at those whom I thought might wrong me or get in my way.
It seemed to work pretty well. I chose my friends and didn’t feel the pressure of being a part of any of the various teenage groups. With an ever-sharpening tongue I was more confident and could impress girls by belittling teachers and other boys. On the soccer field I applied my energy more towards intimidation and violence than skill.
I cultivated the monster for years as he seemed to reward this still small kid who now could get in a mosh pit and instantly identify who to hit. I took him to the workplace and bullied anyone who couldn’t keep up with my pace.
Then I met someone who quieted the monster. Who was never a threat and not impressed by my clever nastiness. Someone who was genuinely kind, loving, helpful, and, most importantly to the monster, confidently independent. Mary wouldn’t be bullied. She had been wronged and was too tough for that. She wasn’t damaged. She didn’t use the lessons she learned against others as I had for a decade. She took her hurt and made it something positive. Mary quieted the monster just by being there. I have thought long and hard and cannot think of one time I said something intentionally hurtful to her. Insensitive? Thoughtless? Negligent? Sure, I said lots of stupid things, but she never roused the monster.
I was sitting pretty, all of a sudden I was a decent guy and looking to do right by people. I got comfortable and forgot about that beast I had fed for so many years.
As we had children, I took on primary care of them and after a little while I started to bully my sons. Usually when Mary wasn’t around, I would find things not going my way and the monster showed up. This abomination was not quick witted, it knew it was bigger now and didn’t need any of the fancy tricks. Yelling, throwing things, threatening…a big, scary, disgusting toddler trying to bend independent humans to its will.
I was in the car alone this evening and cranked up the heavy metal that had fueled my youthful anger. The grieving/healing process has taught me that leaning into unpleasant feelings is the only way to take their power away. The monster hadn’t really been let out in years, not in this off-the-chain, feel every panicked breath, physically paralyzing way. I pulled into the parking lot of a facility where I knew some friends were playing soccer. I was exhausted from keeping it together just enough to control the car. But the tears stopped and I was fearful of sitting there alone, so I went in to watch the game. It was halftime and my friends were playing a man short. “Get in! Get in! We need you!” Without a thought I ran to the car for my gear. Out in the cold I paused for one moment and looked up, “Thank you for bringing me here, God.” I was all smiles and calm and my body was light.
The monster is still there. I treated him too well for too long for ugly crying to chase him off or slay him. But this is the closest I’ve been to this part of my being without giving it control. I hope I can lean into the anger the next time it manifests and find a healing way to engage it.
God bless,
Jason