Anger showed up in my life with him.
By nature, I am a very patient and forgiving person. I don’t get angry with idiots on the road, or when I drop and break things or if I make stupid mistakes when I’m making something. I don’t get angry with shop assistants or call centres or beaurocracy. I don’t even get angry when the internet drops out.
When I met Mr S my patience and kindness came to the fore and served me well. Then I started down an old road of feeling very guilty a lot of the time; beating myself up for not having seen an issue coming, letting him down, not fulfilling my obligations? I sought help and discovered that I was mis-interpreting anger for guilt, or maybe even feeling guilty for being angry.
I really, really hate being angry. It makes me physically uncomfortable as well as mentally drained. I envy @Appleblossom and @Arizona if anger gives them a burst of energy because for me it leaves me completely drained of energy and unable to concentrate.
I will give you an example of how this very thing manifested last night. When I cook dinner I always cook enough for us to have for lunch the next day. A box for me and a box for the Mr. He often eats a box during the night so I either miss out on lunch or, if I have a hidden emergency stash in the freezer I take one of those and leave the second box for his lunch.
Last night there was only one serve left and while I was distracted the cat got it. This made the Mr angry so I got a bollocking because he’d been looking forward to leftover curry and “there is no food in this house again”. He doesn’t mean no food, he means no “fridge food”, his name for things he can just reach in a shove in his mouth. Heaven forbid he should slice up some ham or put bread in the toaster himself (hear my angry tone there?).
But even that wasn’t true. He didn’t eat what I’d left him on Monday so I took it Tuesday. Tuesday he didn’t eat what I’d left him so the pattern repeated. Again yesterday all he’d eaten was the cheesecake I’d made on the weekend and not the sausage rolls which I put in the freezer when I got home. Six months ago I would have begged forgiveness, promised to do better, made up a whole new meal for him for the next day. I would have thought I felt bad because I’d let him down but now I acknowledge that what I felt was anger.
Anger about my efforts going unnoticed, anger at being criticized for something that wasn't true, angry about his daytime meals being my responsibility in the first place and angry about the fact that if I were to defend myself it would be on for young and old. For about half an hour I raged internally while trying to look ok on the outside. It put paid to doing any housework or work for my business that evening but eventually I let it go. Again.
It is good that I am not now berating myself for leaving him inadequate choices in the fridge, for not reminding him what was there, for not setting an early alarm so that I could make a meal for him before I left.
Anger shows up when I feel I am criticized unfairly. It shows up when I am blamed for things beyond my control or when I’ve done my very best and it still isn’t good enough. It comes to visit when issues that I thought had been resolved keep cropping up, or the rules change without notice, and I am powerless to make a difference.
I hate being angry, but I prefer it to the guilt I used to suffer from.
