An Encounter with Anger and Grief

The house was a mess, the dinner needed cooking and my head felt like it was about to explode. I threw the blocks of Duplo into the box so hard most of them just bounced back out.
Anger stood leaning against the door to the lounge, smiling as he watched me.
“Feels good huh?” he grinned.
“Yes? No? I don’t know!” I snapped at him. It did feel good to throw the toys as hard as I could, and there was a certain level of satisfaction to slamming the boxes back into their place on the storage unit.
“That’s right, just let it all out…” his soothing tone intended just to rile me.
“I don’t want to feel like this.” I hissed.
“Yeah you do!” he goaded, “you have every right to feel like this,” his words were only meant to incite more frustration as his eyes shined wide with delight.

It didn’t ‘feel good’, it felt confusing and out of control “I don’t even know why I’m so angry or who I’m angry with.” I seethed as I pushed another box out of the way, tipping it over as I moved it. “Argggghhh!” I screamed.
Anger laughed, “does it matter why you’re angry, just go with it”.
“I don’t want to go with it, I want it to go away” I paused and stared at him. ”I want you to go away.”

“He doesn’t often just go,” Grief interrupted, seemingly out of nowhere, “not without some work on your part anyway.”
“You?” I threw a piece of Duplo at him.
“Ouch, what was that for?” he looked offended.
“If you don’t know…” I snapped.
He rolled his eyes at me and shook his head while Anger looked at him sheepishly.
“I can’t control them” Grief gestured towards Anger, “they’re your emotions.”
“Well at least it makes a little more sense now.” I took a breath and sat down on the floor amongst the mess of toy cars, Duplo and dinosaurs.
“Why though? I still don’t understand why I’m so angry.” I looked at them both. Anger smiled, finding the whole situation amusing but Grief took a seat next to me.

“Look,” Grief started, “it is OK to feel angry, obviously it’d be better if you didn’t let your Anger hurt anyone else,” he added rubbing his arm where the Duplo had hit him. “The thing about anger is that he rarely acts alone, he’s usually encouraged by someone else, often either hurt or fear.”
“You mean like triggers?” I tried to understand.
“Yeah, kind of, I imagine that something has happened today to stir up some kind of pain you’d been trying to ignore or a fear that you don’t really want to face?” He questioned gently.
I sat and replayed the day in my mind. “Mmmmm” I murmured after a few minutes of thought, not sure if I was relieved to have my anger make sense or not. “It all seems quite petty now I think about it.”
“Sometimes it is,” Grief explained “but even the smallest of things can get blown up out of proportion if we don’t recognise them for what they are. Naming them helps, writing it down, working out who or what has hurt you.”

“And the fear?” I asked more calmly than I’d spoken before.
“Yeah, well you know Fear, he’s complicated, he often lies to you for a start. I imagine, and I don’t know for sure, but I guess what he’s telling you is about something that hasn’t even happened yet?” Grief paused as I thought. I nodded. “It’s his greatest trick,” he continued “to make you fearful and anxious and now it seems angry, about something that isn’t even real, not actually rooted in what is actually happening right now.”
“I’m so overwhelmed and it seems I take it out on those nearest to me even though it’s not them I’m angry with.” I admitted. Grief took a seat next to me.
“Yeah, that’s often the way,” he agreed, as he started to pick up the toys we were sat amongst, “it’s hard to take a step back when you feel so overwhelmed but the more you become aware of yourself and what’s really happening, the more you’re able to separate the toys from the tension of feeling so let down.“

I took a breath and leant my head back on the wall behind me, Grief smiled and gave me an affectionate nudge, “you’re doing OK, this is all part of it”.
“Thanks,” I smiled at him, “it is slightly easier now I’ve got to know you a little, sorry about throwing the Duplo at you.”
“I’ve had worse,” he grinned, “Anger has a lot to answer for.”
“Talking of Anger, where is he?” I scanned the room but I couldn’t see him, “he’s gone!”
“Yeah, for now,” Grief winked, “for now!”

By Deb Bridges (Director, Writer and Life Coach for Prodigal Collective)