Anger is a funny beast. It does different things to different people and different things set off people differently.
When I was a little kid, I used to clean my room furiously when I was angry. Shoot, I used anger in this way through my 20s. Anger also makes me cry — it’s usually the frustration that brings the tears. Different things make me angry these days than when I was little. I might have been compelled to sort through the shoes and clothes under my bed back then if I was told I couldn’t go to a friend’s house or couldn’t watch the movie I wanted to watch.
These days it takes much more to make me truly angry. Now I find myself becoming angry because the 3rd family member (and 5th person I know personally in total) in the last 5 years has been diagnosed with cancer. I find myself becoming angry when conversations are held around me rather than with me – why not just ask me what’s going on rather than a third part? I become angry when I feel a grave injustice has occurred in my workplace (though I try to keep my tongue tied there.) I become angry when I realize I’ve allowed someone to walk all over me again without standing up for myself.
I’m not a physically angry person. I’m classified as an introvert so I don’t find myself becoming terribly loud or combative. I tend to stew about things and stewing usually leads to eating. The last couple of years I have found that I eat my feelings. Today it was fast food for lunch. I don’t even remember what the fries tasted like. I wish I still had the motivation to clean when angry. My closets could use a good sorting and my butt could go without the extra padding.
