Posted on: May 10, 2009

Last week, I had a very unpretty reminder of how I am when I am angry. I know when people look at me (especially when I am not smiling), they always have this impression that I am frowning or probably even scowling… I hate it but it seems like it’s my ‘default facial expression’. I don’t really know but I probably look unfriendly or when I’m not smiling, my big eyes tend to give that ‘I don’t really care about you’ look. I always have to tell people that I will not be pouncing on anybody anytime soon. These high arched brows, these sharp looking eyes, these pouting lips – they mean no harm. I am not angry or mad at anybody.

But last Thursday, I was mad as absolutely mad can be. And I was taken aback by how strong that feeling of anger surged right through me. My hands were shaking, my eyes were almost welling up, my voice was authoritative (bordering on arrogance), and my pulse was twice fast the normal. It’s as if someone stepped on a landmine that was buried deep in my heart and I exploded. I didn’t know I even have the capacity to be that angry. And it was one of the worst feelings I’ve had in years. I had to go down and be on my own for a while to tackle whatever aftershocks my anger would be bringing soon after.

I haven’t been that mad in a long time and I’ve almost forgotten that I have the tendency to hyperventilate when I am (at some point I did… I think I downed a gallon of water to help me breathe normally). Time and again, I complain about how my life tend to suck big time sometimes but I don’t get mad about it; Instead, I get really challenged by it and I enjoy watching my own melodramatic life unfold before me. I get irked, irritated, annoyed, pissed at someone… at some people… at many people in fact, but in the end, I still hold that peace in my heart that God’s challenges wouldn’t be as exciting if they aren’t there.

I used to have this hate blog where whenever I am feeling really angry, I would abash the subject and object of my frustration in a cold-blooded word-homicide. That after writing profanities, evil wishes and thoughts of deceit, I would somehow feel a burden was totally lifted off me and I was powerful as I can be (having mutilated someone without his / her knowing through the very thing that I was gifted with – words). But whenever I re-read my so-called ‘masterpiece’ I would then feel bad about how extreme my thoughts had been and I would convince myself that I don’t really mean all those words. So there’s really no point; I stopped writing in my hate blog.

Sometimes I think that having too much anger in your heart is a sin. I am not yet clear about that. We wouldn’t be angry or we wouldn’t have harbored all those bitterness inside us if we are able to forgive… just as God forgave us. But that is a different story. I didn’t have to forgive anyone last time that I was fuming mad. Rather, I feel like I have to stand up and be that leader that I was expected to be and earn that respect that I deserve to have. I didn’t have to forgive anybody ‘coz I feel like they haven’t done me any wrong. It was more an issue of people going boundaries and offending someone in the process. It might be that these people didn’t really mean to and they just needed guidance so I am not going to point fingers and blame them for it.

The point actually is I don’t want to feel that horrible feeling again. Anger is a monster in itself. And if you would let it, it will consume you whole, leaving you with nothing but pain.


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