I am angry.
Really, really angry.
It scares the crap out of me.
And, not because I fear causing physical harm to others, as that has never been an issue with me.
It scares me because anger scares me.
When I was younger, I certainly had my bratty moments, but I never raged or had moments of extreme dysregulation. There were certainly times when I could have, and probably should have—but it never really happened to my knowledge.
Because the stakes were too high.
Though my parents were very committed and weathered a lot of storms with me, I never felt like I could expose those feelings of anger to the world.
I did a lot to avoid experiencing anger from others.
Because anger terrified me.
That fear was paralyzing at times.
And, the anxiety was always there.
Attempts to avoid the anger of others came at a great cost—which continues to profoundly impact my life and who I am today.
I lost myself in my efforts to avoid conflict and making others angry. I could even go as far as to say that I missed out on a crucial part of exploring my identity by not allowing myself to feel or express anger as openly as I should have and face the anger of others.
And, those efforts to avoid anger were endless.
Apologizing for everything.
Remaining silent at times when I wanted to scream.
Giving up or giving in to avoid a fight.
Flying under the radar as much as possible.
Going with the crowd.
Hiding in the shadows of others.
Allowing others to shape my identity and make decisions for me—even at the expense of my values at the time, my dignity, and the sense of who I thought I was and hoped to become.
Speaking softly in hopes that nobody would hear me.
Keeping everything bottled inside.
Not speaking at all.
As I have grown, matured, and experienced the world as an adult—I have allowed myself to feel and express my anger more freely. But, I have found that I can be somewhat immature emotionally.
Because I don’t always handle my emotions well and missed out on developing ways to cope with the emotions I rarely allowed myself to feel.
I have never harmed anyone physically, but I have said things that are hurtful more often than I would like to admit.
I lash out at those closest to me.
I fixate on things that make me angry, and even though I use opportunities to vent and process—some things are really difficult to let go of and move on from.
I use food as a coping mechanism—vacillating between overeating and not eating at all.
I completely check out.
And, every time I allow myself to be vulnerable enough to expose my anger to others—the guilt that follows is all-consuming and overwhelming.
I have been struggling for a while and my mental health has suffered greatly. And, I am finding myself in a place I have never been before—vacillating between feeling nothing and feeling so much anger.
I am so angry. So angry.
And, that scares me. A lot.
Because the one emotion that I have spent most of my life trying to escape and avoid is the only emotion I currently have the capacity to feel. It seems to be the only emotion that is reminding me that I am alive and still fighting.
I very much own where I am right now, and I am taking the steps to stop the downward spiral, take care of myself, and access the supports that I need to work through this.
I feel fortunate to be in a field where I have been able to develop skills and knowledge about being able to address situations like this safely and appropriately, but I wonder about others who have experienced adoption and foster care as a child and feel as I do, but may not have access to the same resources and supports.
As parents, we worry so much about the emotions our children express, and sometimes forget that expressing those emotions is so healthy and so incredibly important for our children to be able to do. There are absolutely cases where the dysregulation and emotions expressed are not healthy or “normal”, and that absolutely needs to be acknowledged and addressed in safe, supportive, and appropriate ways—and possibly with the help of professionals.
However, we need to also remember that through the release of emotions and the processing and support that usually follows—your child is working to form their own identity; they are fighting to feel safe; they are testing the limits of your love and commitment to them; they are navigating boundaries set for them and working to form their own; and they are working to develop self-awareness and coping skills that will profoundly impact the way they experience the world.
This world can feel pretty lonely, overwhelming, and hopeless when you haven’t developed the ability to name and freely express the emotions you are feeling and lack the supports to help you through.
The limitations in rarely allowing myself to feel and freely express emotions like anger as a child were largely self-imposed and fueled by the fear of another rejection or abandonment—another loss.
And, those limitations I set for myself as a child have made it extremely difficult for me to cope as a deeply feeling person in this world.
Even though I have a wonderful support system and access to resources—I often feel very lonely, misunderstood, overwhelmed, lost, heartbroken, and like I am a constant burden on those around me.
Please, please don’t let your kids grow up to be someone like me.