The upside of anger

In Islam, it is said that one should go no longer than three days of not speaking to someone out of anger. I, unfortunately, have been able to go much longer than that in my life. I’ve been known to hold grudges that could rival those of the Count of Monte Cristo and Beatrix Kiddo combined – and I know it’s not right. There is nothing that I can honestly say to justify cutting anyone completely out of my life. And yet we don’t stop. The slightest misunderstanding can set you off. Then, suddenly, before you know it, the harshest of words have been exchanged, half of which you can’t even remember because your mind is so clouded by this intense fury, and you’re left walking away with one less person in your life.

After that, the resentment sets in. You’re left mulling the whole incident over and over in your mind, dissecting every single word until you’re left with only two choices: You can either accept the hurt that was caused and take responsibility, or you can get angry all over again. I usually opt for that latter. The problem with these choices is that it’s all you’ve got in a situation where anger is involved. The bigger man can move on, and can step up and accept the fact that both parties are a little bit at fault. But most people can’t do that. It’s hard to deal with that kind of pain, and to take on that kind of responsibility. It’s hard to accept the fact that you were even a little bit wrong, and it’s even harder to admit to yourself that you allowed anyone to have enough power and control in your life that they had the ability to cause you any kind of pain. Personally, I lack that kind of maturity, and I have the great of misfortune knowing many other people who lack it as well.

It’s never easy to acknowledge the fact that you allowed someone into your life that just ended up hurting you. It shows weakness and vulnerability. And so, we go for the next best thing: Anger. We use the anger to shield us from pain, and to protect us from what it is that we’re really feeling: Pain. But what we don’t realize is that the longer we hold onto that anger, the more it becomes a part of us. The longer we allow it to ferment, the harder it is to get rid of. The rage that we allow to grow in our hearts is consuming, in a very scary and uncontrollable way. Sooner or later, it takes over entirely, and you’re left with nothing more than the memory of what once was. And some people will never be able to let go of that. There are some people who will never be able to take that very vital and important step toward forgiveness. They may never be able to fully let go of the resentment that they harbor and the false safety that anger provides for them. Maybe they don’t realize what it is that they’re losing, or maybe the anger has blinded them so much that they don’t even care.

The interesting thing about that crazy little thing called anger is the tricks it plays on you. It convinces you that you’re right, the other person is wrong, and you are fully justified to act like the fool you have become. It blinds you from all rationality and logical reasoning. You know how they say love is blind? Well, anger is deaf and dumb as well. It paralyzes you in a way that leaves you feeling helpless without it, and so you cling to it. It has a way of allowing you to persuade yourself into truly believing that forgiveness is too grand of a gesture to make, when in reality, it is the one gesture that must be made. It’s part of the healing process. Because once the anger is gone, all that remains is the hole it has carved out of you, and in most cases that I’ve seen, that damage is irreversible – and then you’re left wondering, hoping you did the right thing, but knowing that you didn’t – because people don’t know how to love. They bite rather than kiss. They slap rather than stroke. Maybe it’s because they recognize how easy it is for love to go bad, to become suddenly impossible, unworkable, an exercise of futility. So they avoid it and seek solace in angst, and fear, and aggression, which are always there and readily available. Or maybe sometimes, they just don’t have all the facts.

Anger and resentment can stop you. That’s what I know now. It needs nothing to burn but the air and the life that it swallows and smothers. It’s real, though – the fury – even when it isn’t. It can change you, turn you, mold you and shape you into something you’re not. The only upside to anger then is the person you become. Hopefully someone that wakes up one day and realizes they’re not afraid to take the journey, someone that knows that the truth is, at best, a partially told story. That anger, like growth, comes in spurts and fits, and in its wake, leaves a new chance at acceptance and the promise of calm.