Anger as a Battle Cry

Lately I’ve had a lot of people talk to me about anger.  Anger is fear turned outward. Anger is dangerous.  Anger is hurt.  One friend said to me, just a month into this disaster, “Still in the anger stage, huh?” after I referred to X as a fucker in conversation. 

All of this makes me feel like people think anger isn’t a real feeling. It’s a mask.  It’s a cover.  It’s less than.  It’s dangerous.  But the truth is, anger has gotten me through some really tough moments.  Just today, I was feeling very sad, reliving the days of his leaving, the things he said, the ways he justified his abandonment with contradicting excuses that left me feeling like I was really the problem.  The way he left me without a family of my own. I began to reread the email explanation he sent me after he left.  It was so painful to read I began sobbing uncontrollably.  He hurt me so much.  He betrayed me.  He lied and lied to me for years.  It was so intense, I began to pace back and forth.  I walked to the bedroom, sobbing.  I fell to my knees and cried.  I wailed and then screamed.  Hunched over, I screamed some more and pounded my fists on the floor.  I felt this jolt through me, like electricity.  Then I stood up.

Before the screaming, I felt like I would feel the intensity of this sadness and hurt so acutely for the rest of eternity.  After screaming, I felt release.  I got up, went to my laptop, and began writing him a letter.  It was the angriest letter I’ve written him since he left, and I’ve written quite a few.  (I don’t send them.  They are for me.)  I couldn’t type fast enough.  I pretend told him exactly what I thought of him, how horrible he was, how horribly he had treated me, and how disgusting it is that he left me for another woman.  And when I was done, I felt better.  I actually felt better.

I think it’s true that anger is hurt or fear turned outward.  I was feeling hurt and fear before I got angry.  I was feeling it so intensely I was in physical pain.  But anger was my battle cry.  It was the way I turned things around and fought back.  The way I got myself back up.  I don’t believe this anger is unhealthy or dangerous.  It got me through a very difficult moment.  While I’m sure that anger can be dangerous if it’s the default emotion or the armor used to not feel anything else, in my case, I believe my anger is justified and healthy.  It’s part of the complex web of emotions I feel.  And it is sometimes a tool to get me through the most painful moments of my days.