An Anger Problem
When I was in my early teens, I had become quite perverted in my thinking and speaking. I was quick with a comeback or a put-down.
That was before I became a Christian. I was into death and "trippiness" often feeling that I should have been born a hippy. I made my skin pale and wore all black before there were Goths in my town. I was pretty strange in general, but I had decided not to use drugs, drink, or have sex anymore.
One day I decided to work on my swearing. I would only say "damn." At the same time I decided I would approach things with an innocent clean mind. I also stopped being mean to those I picked on and decided to let myself trust people.
At the time I was into the occult. I was learning about Wicca and Paganism. I was also in the early stages of self-injury. I was thought to be depressed and suicidal. I was seeing the school counselor, but I hadn't been diagnosed as far as I knew.
All this worked out pretty well and my friends as well as teachers and classmates noticed the change. I was teased at times and called "gullible." I even loaned money to people I never saw again fully believing they would pay me back. I became equated with the ditzy blonde in the jokes going around at the time.
I had mastered addiction. I had mastered lust. I wasn't truly afraid of anything. I had changed myself and opened myself to experience life through new eyes. But for all the accomplishments and self-development, there was one thing I could only have limited control over. Anger. I had made myself not ticklish after being tickled to the point of not being able to breathe one day. I could turn off most pain or quickly get it under control. I would play the happy girl with no troubles and let things roll off my back. But eventually the pressure would build and like Vesuvius, I'd explode destroying everything in my path.
One thing I would never do is hurt a living thing. I knew I was physically strong and based on what I'd done to objects I took my aggression out on, I knew I could seriously hurt a person if I let myself.
Anger and sadness are the things that made life miserable. They were always there, always connected.
I'd get angry at messing up. I'd become sad that I messed up. I'd hurt myself in depression. Get mad that I hurt myself. Do something destructive and feel sad that I messed up. It was a Cycle. It wasn't until recently I learned I had Borderline Personality Disorder (which is not the same as Bi-Polar Disorder or Other Dissociative disorders).
Anger is still the hardest thing for me to master. I get so worked up and don't have anywhere to put it. I used to run, but I can't anymore due to and accident in 1996. Anger used to come out in self-injury but that is dangerous. Now I write or talk or do some wood working to calm myself down.
Admittedly there are still times when I explode, but they are fewer and farther between and they are not quite the magnitude they once were.
That was before I became a Christian. I was into death and "trippiness" often feeling that I should have been born a hippy. I made my skin pale and wore all black before there were Goths in my town. I was pretty strange in general, but I had decided not to use drugs, drink, or have sex anymore.
One day I decided to work on my swearing. I would only say "damn." At the same time I decided I would approach things with an innocent clean mind. I also stopped being mean to those I picked on and decided to let myself trust people.
At the time I was into the occult. I was learning about Wicca and Paganism. I was also in the early stages of self-injury. I was thought to be depressed and suicidal. I was seeing the school counselor, but I hadn't been diagnosed as far as I knew.
All this worked out pretty well and my friends as well as teachers and classmates noticed the change. I was teased at times and called "gullible." I even loaned money to people I never saw again fully believing they would pay me back. I became equated with the ditzy blonde in the jokes going around at the time.
I had mastered addiction. I had mastered lust. I wasn't truly afraid of anything. I had changed myself and opened myself to experience life through new eyes. But for all the accomplishments and self-development, there was one thing I could only have limited control over. Anger. I had made myself not ticklish after being tickled to the point of not being able to breathe one day. I could turn off most pain or quickly get it under control. I would play the happy girl with no troubles and let things roll off my back. But eventually the pressure would build and like Vesuvius, I'd explode destroying everything in my path.
One thing I would never do is hurt a living thing. I knew I was physically strong and based on what I'd done to objects I took my aggression out on, I knew I could seriously hurt a person if I let myself.
Anger and sadness are the things that made life miserable. They were always there, always connected.
I'd get angry at messing up. I'd become sad that I messed up. I'd hurt myself in depression. Get mad that I hurt myself. Do something destructive and feel sad that I messed up. It was a Cycle. It wasn't until recently I learned I had Borderline Personality Disorder (which is not the same as Bi-Polar Disorder or Other Dissociative disorders).
Anger is still the hardest thing for me to master. I get so worked up and don't have anywhere to put it. I used to run, but I can't anymore due to and accident in 1996. Anger used to come out in self-injury but that is dangerous. Now I write or talk or do some wood working to calm myself down.
Admittedly there are still times when I explode, but they are fewer and farther between and they are not quite the magnitude they once were.
posted by KAT | 7:27 AM
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