This chapter is called “Rage” rather than “Anger” because I believe that anyone who has experienced sexual child abuse has a lot of rage inside. Rage is a natural response to a very unnatural violation. Most survivors handle their rage in one of two ways. Either they are angry all the time—sometimes violently so—or, they stuff it deep inside and never let it seep through. Either way, it eats them alive.
I think most survivors, on a deep level, are afraid of their rage. Over time I have come to understand that rage is just rage—no more, no less. And we need to let it out. Constructively! Rage can become our ally, believe it or not. And it can fuel massive healing and positive change. We need to learn how to harness it.
My Story
In spite of an impulse to take care of other people, I was a very angry person most of my life. Very Type A, fly off the handle, rage always simmering just below the surface. I was always mad at someone or something. It was usually disproportionate to what was really going on. This simmering rage was also effective in keeping people far enough away that they wouldn’t hurt me. It was my mode of interface with the world. And, of course, it was killing me.
Given how practiced I was with my anger, you would think that when I delved into the healing process I would have had no trouble processing the anger stuffed inside. Wrong! This was the biggest stumbling block I hit.
I had no trouble being angry at little things in my life. But I absolutely could not feel the anger about my abuse. On an intellectual level, I knew I must be mad. But, to feel it—or to say it—no way! I could not say the words. I could not feel the feelings. I had stored them away so deep inside that it took a lot of digging to access them.
Here’s what it took. I asked someone in my survivors group to be angry for me. I needed her to feel my anger and say it out loud. She was amazing. What a huge gift she gave me that day. She made it safe for me to do what was never safe for me to do as a child: feel and speak how I felt about the injustice. Finally, finally, it came spilling out. I got mad. I got physical (safe stuff, padded bats, etc.) and I got vocal. And, this time, I had witnesses to support me. I could be mad as hell, I could rant and rage. People cheered! What a moment!
Let me tell you something—experiencing your rage over what you are really mad about is so powerful. It absolutely sets your soul on fire—in a good way!
Finding my anger and letting it out appropriately was the turning point in my healing process. Once I was able to do that, I knew I would be okay.
Did you hear what I just said? Once I got in touch with my anger and learned to use it constructively I knew I would be okay! This was huge.
For the first time, I was engaged in more than a leap of faith. I knew. From then on, I started seeing results in my life. There was no doubt I was on the right path.
Before this episode of authentic anger, I had never written anything about my feelings before. On February 10, 1994, I wrote this:
MY ANGER
My anger fills the oceans
and laps the shores of all humanity.
My anger is the red of a thousand sunsets,
of hot air balloons, of blood.
My anger is the lava of earth’s volcanoes
and spills over into all of my life.
I taste it on my lips.
Thick, bitter, salty.
I embrace it. A sword.
A shield. A laser.
I befriend it. It becomes
my power, my strength, my passion.
I release it. And harness it.
It flows through me like blood.
It becomes my friend.
My sentry. My protector. My champion.
My anger is a beam of pure, white light.
It shines into the darkness of my soul and sets me free.
It is my anger. And at last,
it is beautiful.
Given how practiced I was with my anger, you would think that when I delved into the healing process I would have had no trouble processing the anger stuffed inside. Wrong! This was the biggest stumbling block I hit.
I had no trouble being angry at little things in my life. But I absolutely could not feel the anger about my abuse. On an intellectual level, I knew I must be mad. But, to feel it—or to say it—no way! I could not say the words. I could not feel the feelings. I had stored them away so deep inside that it took a lot of digging to access them.
Here’s what it took. I asked someone in my survivors group to be angry for me. I needed her to feel my anger and say it out loud. She was amazing. What a huge gift she gave me that day. She made it safe for me to do what was never safe for me to do as a child: feel and speak how I felt about the injustice. Finally, finally, it came spilling out. I got mad. I got physical (safe stuff, padded bats, etc.) and I got vocal. And, this time, I had witnesses to support me. I could be mad as hell, I could rant and rage. People cheered! What a moment!
Let me tell you something—experiencing your rage over what you are really mad about is so powerful. It absolutely sets your soul on fire—in a good way!
Finding my anger and letting it out appropriately was the turning point in my healing process. Once I was able to do that, I knew I would be okay.
Did you hear what I just said? Once I got in touch with my anger and learned to use it constructively I knew I would be okay! This was huge.
For the first time, I was engaged in more than a leap of faith. I knew. From then on, I started seeing results in my life. There was no doubt I was on the right path.
Before this episode of authentic anger, I had never written anything about my feelings before. On February 10, 1994, I wrote this:
MY ANGER
My anger fills the oceans
and laps the shores of all humanity.
My anger is the red of a thousand sunsets,
of hot air balloons, of blood.
My anger is the lava of earth’s volcanoes
and spills over into all of my life.
I taste it on my lips.
Thick, bitter, salty.
I embrace it. A sword.
A shield. A laser.
I befriend it. It becomes
my power, my strength, my passion.
I release it. And harness it.
It flows through me like blood.
It becomes my friend.
My sentry. My protector. My champion.
My anger is a beam of pure, white light.
It shines into the darkness of my soul and sets me free.
It is my anger. And at last,
it is beautiful.
Our Walk Together - Questions and Answers
Why was it so hard for you to reach your anger about the abuse? It seems like that is the first feeling that would come up.
As a child, I couldn’t safely own my anger. There were too many controlling, raging, dangerous people around me. It was clearly in their best interest that my anger never surface—because if it had, the truth of the sexual abuse would have surfaced with it.
Therefore I never developed the skill to process my anger. It just sat inside me like a dense, hot ball of fire. And it spilled out at times unrelated to my real anger. I knew how to be angry—I didn’t know how to be angry about the abuse.
How do you ever let ALL the anger out? I don’t think there would ever be an end to it if I let it start flowing.
You let it out a chunk at a time, for a long time. And I don’t know if it ever runs out, since I still feel it occasionally. When I do, I find a way to release it. What once was so hard has become second nature. I brushed my teeth today. I processed some anger. It becomes commonplace. Over time, the volume and rate of flow has slowed down considerably. For a long time I felt a lot of anger. Now it’s just every now and then.
Doesn’t the anger eat you up as you feel it?
No. As with all feelings, anger only eats you up when you don’t feel it. When you let it flow, it’s cleansing and healing.
I don’t have any problem feeling my anger. I’m mad as hell at my abuser. I’m so mad I can’t think of anything else.
Great! That is, as long as you are using the anger for your benefit. Take a close look at whether you are letting the anger flow constructively. Look at whether it spills over into current situations or if it is confined to the original source. Look at whether it burns you. Look at how you can be using it most productively.
I don’t understand what you mean about using anger productively. How can you use a negative emotion productively?
There was a period of time when I was feeling a lot of anger toward my father. This anger felt so big that I wasn’t sure what to do with it. As I checked in with myself, my sense was that I needed to do something physical. I took on the massive project of building a large box garden on my deck. I did the whole thing myself. Hauled the lumber. Drilled the holes. Heaved countless bags of peat moss and manure. Dug and mixed and watered the soil. For day after day, I sweated and grunted out that anger.
That’s using anger constructively. By the time I was finished with that garden, my anger was depleted. Better still, I was left with something that for years has given me a gift of beauty with each new season.
As a child, I couldn’t safely own my anger. There were too many controlling, raging, dangerous people around me. It was clearly in their best interest that my anger never surface—because if it had, the truth of the sexual abuse would have surfaced with it.
Therefore I never developed the skill to process my anger. It just sat inside me like a dense, hot ball of fire. And it spilled out at times unrelated to my real anger. I knew how to be angry—I didn’t know how to be angry about the abuse.
How do you ever let ALL the anger out? I don’t think there would ever be an end to it if I let it start flowing.
You let it out a chunk at a time, for a long time. And I don’t know if it ever runs out, since I still feel it occasionally. When I do, I find a way to release it. What once was so hard has become second nature. I brushed my teeth today. I processed some anger. It becomes commonplace. Over time, the volume and rate of flow has slowed down considerably. For a long time I felt a lot of anger. Now it’s just every now and then.
Doesn’t the anger eat you up as you feel it?
No. As with all feelings, anger only eats you up when you don’t feel it. When you let it flow, it’s cleansing and healing.
I don’t have any problem feeling my anger. I’m mad as hell at my abuser. I’m so mad I can’t think of anything else.
Great! That is, as long as you are using the anger for your benefit. Take a close look at whether you are letting the anger flow constructively. Look at whether it spills over into current situations or if it is confined to the original source. Look at whether it burns you. Look at how you can be using it most productively.
I don’t understand what you mean about using anger productively. How can you use a negative emotion productively?
There was a period of time when I was feeling a lot of anger toward my father. This anger felt so big that I wasn’t sure what to do with it. As I checked in with myself, my sense was that I needed to do something physical. I took on the massive project of building a large box garden on my deck. I did the whole thing myself. Hauled the lumber. Drilled the holes. Heaved countless bags of peat moss and manure. Dug and mixed and watered the soil. For day after day, I sweated and grunted out that anger.
That’s using anger constructively. By the time I was finished with that garden, my anger was depleted. Better still, I was left with something that for years has given me a gift of beauty with each new season.
Action Steps
When you are ready, make contact with your anger. As always, find a safe place. Ask yourself:
You will probably need to come back to this exercise time and again.
- What do I need to do or say to (safely) give voice to my anger?
- What does my body need?
- Do I need a witness? Lots of witnesses?
- Where in my body is it stuck?
- What will it take to loosen it and let it flow?
- Can I be with my anger and stay unafraid?
- Am I willing to honor it as an appropriate, healthy response?
- Is there a way to use it productively?
You will probably need to come back to this exercise time and again.
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Copyright 2006 Journey Publishing LLC |
