Sad, Happy, and Angry - I tried them on, and anger fit the best

As a kid, I saw how my mother spiraled through her emotions. Depressed, angry, manic, out of control, and sometimes happy, is how I remembered seeing her. Most of the times, I felt as though I had to walk on eggshells around her because I didn’t want to set her off. However, even as I tried to appease her and not cause any problems, there were many times, where it simply didn’t matter what I did or didn’t do. Mom would lose control of her emotions and I was usually on the receiving end of it.

How did I process these experiences from an early age? I tried on some of my emotions to see how they fit and how they could help me get through. I had to be tactful, logical, and resourceful. One misstep and heaven knows what hell would await me.

The aim was to be in control. I experimented with a few of my emotions to see which one would prove to be the most useful and would help me continue to overcome what lied ahead. There were times in which I experienced the sadness that would come up from reflecting on the inner and outer hell I was living through. When I allowed myself to feel sad, I felt like I crumbled into pieces. In this state, I couldn’t push through. I felt stuck, helpless, and powerless. I was too vulnerable, and this put a target on my back. Sadness caused me to be too attached to the situation and it impaired my perception. I couldn’t think logically. I couldn’t act as quickly as I needed to or anticipate things before they happened.

Anticipation was crucial for me because it helped me feel better prepared. It helped me have control of the situation and diffuse situations before they even escalated. Sadness was not working in my favor. It only slowed me down and made me feel really crappy about my life.

Happy was another emotion that I tried on during the times when the seas had settled, and mom was doing okay. There were times in which I wanted to feel happy but the thought of feeling true happiness was quickly disrupted by previous experiences. Previous experiences taught me that happiness was like the calm before the storm. Happiness was fleeting and temporary. Happiness meant that something was probably in the works of going wrong. Happiness felt too dangerous and inconsistent. With happiness, I subjected myself to blind spots that I would have otherwise caught in order to prevent the next thing from happening.

With happiness, I was carefree and careless. This all just went against my need to be hypervigilant and prepared. Happiness wasn’t going to work for me either. I couldn’t be happy because it was simply too risky.

When I finally tried anger on, I felt something that I had not experienced before. With my mom, I learned to be submissive and accept her treatments no matter what. But when I started to feel  my anger from past and present experiences, I felt powerful for the very first time. With anger, I was on guard and prepared. Anger protected the side of me that I didn’t want anyone else to see. Anger stopped people in their tracks and threw the first punch. Anger helped me to create the tough exterior that I needed. With anger, I was able to detach myself emotionally from the situation. I was logical, tactical, and practical.

Anger helped me think clearly. I was quick at anticipating events, experiences, reactions, and outcomes. With anger, I felt protected. Anger isolated me from my other emotions. Anger took over sadness and happiness because of their instability and lack of control. Anger allowed for me to be ready to overcome and fight every single challenge I’ve been presented with so far. It has kept people at a distance and while I’ve wanted to connect, anger hasn’t allow me to. Connecting makes you vulnerable. Anger has protected me the way I wished someone would have when I was engulfed in my sadness and in my pain. Anger cleaned up the mess and tucked it all away.

When grief hit, it was like a wave of overwhelming emotions running through my veins. It consumed me and destroyed me. Anger found a way and once again was able to regain control. Grief and anger have battled it out for years. And when grief gets the best of me, anger creeps back up and protects me. It holds me and makes sure that my life, no longer hurts.

For me being angry is much easier than feeling the waves of my other emotions. Sadness stops my clock. My logic, practicality, and rational become corrupted. Happiness, what is happiness? I learned that happiness was too good to be true. It felt like the quiet before the storm. When I finally started to feel happy, I was caught off guard with the death of my mom. And that hit me like a bag of bricks to the face. Happiness caused me to be open and vulnerable. I let my guards down and it betrayed me. There was a blind spot, and I didn’t catch it in time.

My anger continued to intensify, and it taught me the consequences of my other emotions. But for some reason, as well as anger seems to fit, it has also become exhausting and lonely. With anger I am in control. I can think. I can do. I can anticipate. With anger, I am disconnected, detached, isolated, and it feels like I’m a robot. It has protected me and given me the safety that I wished I had in someone when I was the most scared.

My anger took control in order to protect that young girl during those years of torment, sadness, uncertainty, and during a time when I didn’t trust anyone and had to figure things out for myself. But today as I look back and I look forward, I have realized that I don’t want to be angry anymore. I just want to BE.