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How Anger Saved Me

Unlocking Depression: Recognizing & Releasing Anger

Anger saved me.

Out of my lifelong depression. And back into life.

Real friends save each other. Anger is my friend.

I am still getting to know her. Feel her. Be aware of her.

She wears many faces. She comes in different forms. I am slowly starting to recognize some of the many ways she comes to me.

Sometimes I am not aware she is even there. Until I turn around. And there she is. Silent. Watching. Looking at me. Still.

I have to ask her “What is wrong?” Nudge her. Coax her out. Be persistent.

A bit like trying to communicate with a petulant teenager.

But once the air is cleared and we both know what is wrong, we both breathe, and sigh in relief.

Sometimes she comes screaming at me with both fists raised. Pounding on my face, head and body as I try and duck her blows. Bruising me. Her assault still always frightens me. Takes a bit to recover from. Leaves me shaken.

But at least she doesn’t hold anything back. I know what’s going on. How she feels. And why. Boy, do I know.

I don’t always know how to calm her. Chocolate usually works. Lots of it.

But, I need to find healthier ways to appease and calm the beast that she is. When she leaves my nerves shattered and frayed in her wake. Once she is subdued.

I have learnt that she appears when I haven’t been listening for awhile. Not tuning in. Ignoring her warning signs. Slowly building up.

Sometimes she is cold. Calculating. Working out the perfect murder in my living room. In my head. Down to the last detail. Perfect executions. How not to get caught. How to get away with it.

Her cruelty is exacting. Punishing. Revengeful.

She reminds me of my father’s cold anger dished out without a raised voice. Quietly spoken, but oh so frightening. The bamboo cane swishing through the air as it came down upon our buttocks. No emotion shown. No mercy. We feared his anger dished out cold more than the screaming and yelling of my mother.

I am frightened of this version of my anger. When she appears in my head. I know she is there. And I am the gatekeeper. I keep her locked in. If I let her out she would become real. She would be real. And the cost to me and others would be incalculable.

I am her gatekeeper. Her prison guard. She hates me. I fear her.

I am privy to all her thoughts.

Knowing she has been activated and has arisen in me I need to pay careful attention to myself. Have I opened my boundaries and allowed a toxic person into my personal space? I need to exercise self compassion and self care. I remove myself from being around those who have activated her. If at all possible. If not, limit my contact. To protect them. To protect me. From her. I am still unsure of her. Of my ability to control her. I know she doesn’t want to be controlled.

But I listen to her.

I write down “What do you want to tell me?” I write her answer. “What do you want me to do?” “What do you want to say?” “Why do you feel these things?” “Why do you want to do that?” I write down her answers.

I am shocked. I try hard not to judge. But to understand. To learn why she has appeared. Why she wants to lash out, hurt back and exact revenge?

Then there is my warrior anger. My Zena Princess. Who carries a bow and arrow. Who holds up her shield.

Who is Amazonian in her beauty.

Who is wild in her nature.

Who is self sufficient. And strong. And powerful.

Her muscles ripple under her skin. Her calves are clad in skins. Her belly has the best six pack ever. Her breasts are contained in coconut halves strung together with seed pods (I know… amazing right).

She knows how to defend herself.

I welcome her. I breathe her in.

She is normally activated when I see bullying or injustice happening to other people.

And I feel helpless. And full of rage and indignation for them. For what is happening to them. How can this be? She appears then.

I can listen to her more calmly.

Her rationality I sometimes echo out loud in real words. My activism.

She also appears and speaks for my inner child. On her behalf. When she is afraid, or a past painful memory has been triggered by some recent event or person. And my child is angry and alone. Having no-one to hear her or validate her feelings.

Zena appears. She is her voice. She validates her anger. She comforts her.

Oh, how I wish everyone's inner child had a Zena.

A mother warrior who is a protector. Someone to keep you safe from harm. With the fierceness of a lion for her cubs.

These are MY many faces of anger.

Do you recognise yours?

Learning to recognize their presence inside of you is the first step to learning to harness their energy.

Listen to them. Ask them, what is wrong? Why they are angry?

Close your eyes. Concentrate. Where do you feel areas of tension? Place your hands over the area. Breathe into it. Until it moves to another place or goes away. Keep breathing.

Figuratively, step back inside.

Watch your thoughts and feelings arrive as if you are an observer. Listen to the commentary of your mind. Listen to what your mind is saying to yourself. Your anger. What your feelings are saying to you.

If you can’t think in words. If words don’t come up. Pick a color. What color would this tension be? Breathe in white light, breathe out the color. Keep practising. Keep trying.

Soon tuning into your body will be automatic. Second nature.

Write. Paint. Dance. Draw. Walk. Run. Garden. Make music.

Do what you have to do to help her (your anger) move through you and out.

Giving you more space inside.

To breathe.

You will start to feel lighter.

Want to move more. Do more. You will feel FREE.

Enjoy. You Deserve It. You are worthy of feeling it.

FREEDOM

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