Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Your Anger

Unless You're Not Really Sorry About It. Then It's Fine.

I’ve been thinking a lot about anger these days, as it’s not an emotion I often have. Or, perhaps, its not one I often acknowledge.

But there was a season in my life when rage ran white-hot. It was fresh and new and terrifying- and truthfully, kind of exciting.

It fueled me. It felt like the strongest coffee I had ever had coursing through every vein. The adrenaline practically carried me through the day. I felt super human. Scheduled and disciplined. I was never going to let anyone screw me over again so my hyper-vigilance was on high alert.

“ I will kill you if you so much sneeze in my direction,” was basically my vibe for two years. I was coming for every injustice, every untruth. I was turning over every single rock knowing there was bound to be an unsuspecting snake laying there eventually. And I was going to catch every snake if it killed me.

And it did.

Kill me.

Here is what they don’t tell you in Sunday School about anger.

Sometimes it saves us.

Sometimes watching the sunset and still feeling the rage is soothing. We know it’ll simmer under the surface and keep us safe.

Sometimes, it’s necessary. To move us out of unsafe territory. To force our bodies into poised awareness. To override fear. To move us forward.

Sometimes it’s life or death. Sometimes, if we didn’t have the anger, the sadness would overcome and we can’t afford that when we have jobs and children and mouths to feed.

But as much as I learned how anger propels you- it’ll weigh you down eventually.

I’ve watched the sun set on my anger a million times, and I’d do it again.

I know it can’t be rushed, denied, shoved down or ignored.

There is a timeline that only anger knows exists- and it won’t be coerced.

I know that there is a delicate balance between training with a ruck to build stronger muscles, and carrying a weight unprepared that’ll take you down with it.

I am making peace with my anger- letting it course through my body instead of cutting it off at the source and letting it fester. I am letting it breathe because I know if I don’t, it turns inward like a cancer and destroys from the inside.

I am practicing saying the words- “ I am angry” without apology or explanation.

I am letting my hands shake and my voice wobble and my face redden and then I am watching it go- up and out and through.

I am making treaties with my body- No, I will no longer disallow you to experience this emotion because it is, “evil” or, “bad”. All of me is good. All of me is good inside. All of me.

Anger included.

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I don’t ordinarily send letters out on Sundays, but sometimes there is something worth saying that can’t wait. I wanted to let you know that I find it a gift to be in your inbox. It’s a gift-to me- that you read what I put down. I put thought, effort, research and love into every word and will continue to do so, for free. However, if you would like to support this little corner of writing, you are now able to do so: voluntarily.

Thanks for meeting me here while we eat our words. This time, about anger. Next time, who knows?