Sometimes we have to be angry. We HAVE to be angry. Sometimes.
Still, anger is always a painful alternative to Faith.
Note: This blog series investigates twelve attributes I see as conducive to recovery from PTSD (and other past stress) which has become part of our ethos or basic belief system. April aspires to Faith.
Anger is a feeling, an intense, unpleasant, often painful feeling.
So, why do we have to be angry, sometimes?
Because the alternative to individuals with Post Traumatic Stress symptoms is depression, and depression kills.
Anger swallowed is guilt—which leads to depression.
Anger accepted from others is shame—which leads to depression.
Anger blamed on others is resentment—which is poison to the mind, body, and soul, but it may avoid depression, temporarily.
Anger fueled becomes rage—which leads to loss of control and prison (or worse).
Lest I rouse anger, allow me to remind you that I am neither psychologist nor sociologist. I’m just an old soldier trying to claw his way back to mental and spiritual health who has done a little research.
Okay, now, resentment fueled becomes war—which leads to anger, guilt, shame, resentment, rage, and more war. That is a positive feedback loop that defines disease.
Oh, and anger turned sideways is comedy (of a sort), especially satire and sarcasm.
Getting depressed? Time to bring in the experts, a group of kindergarteners addressing the pain and remedy for anger in a short video called, “Just Breathe.”
Yes, I know, it is not that simple for those who have survived traumatic experiences, but it is good advice on two counts:
1. Anger does hurt; and,
2. Mindful breathing does help.
Here is the problem as I see it. The beast is chasing us toward the cliff and great chasm, a less than gorgeous gorge. If we leap, we will surely die. If we surrender to the beast, we will surely die. If we focus all of our energy by turning and fighting the beast, we just might survive for a little while—maybe.
Ah, but there is a bridge, flimsy ropes with a few rotting boards on the bottom, swinging in the wind; but, it crosses the chasm.
Are you afraid of heights?
Running across that bridge requires an act of faith, faith in the materials, the engineers, yourself, and maybe God Almighty.
And, there is our problem, a lack of Faith. It is hard to have faith in engineers you have never met (or, people at all) and a God that seems to have let you down, you know, back there in that ungodly experience of trauma.
No, I am not suggesting a leap of Faith. Your vulnerability is real and it can kill you. We will discuss that next week before we get to a way of escaping the beast.
In the meantime, you might take a brief look at the tracks of your anger, but be good to yourself.