Ruth talks about her anger, but she won't say anger. It's frustration, she tells me, with the million demands at work and home, with no one helping out. Her kids sit in front of TV. Her husband walks past the mountain of laundry. Each night she must get food on the table, clean up, get homework done and bathe the children. How come no one else sees the unmade beds or the stacks of things on the staircase waiting to go up?
Her enemy is anger. It lies like a waiting tiger in the hearts of well-meaning people. There it silently broods, watching, building strength. The good person with the angry heart pushes down on the tiger, determined not to blow up. Compression only increases its force until one day it springs. Then, with grenade explosion a verbal poison pierces the emotional skin of everyone around.
Franklin's anger comes from work, he says. Tremendous responsibility has landed squarely on his shoulders since two others were let go in company cutbacks.
"They still want the work done," he says, "and if I rush I make mistakes. So I stay late with no overtime pay and my wife gets madder and madder. I can't get the work done. I can't make it up to my wife. And now more layoffs are coming. If I can't work, I can't pay the mortgage. Sure I blew up last night, but give me a break. Who wouldn't be frustrated?"
Anger is a liar. It thrives on self-justification. Everyone is angry in your situation, it says. Your boss is a fool, it whispers. You told him what's going on and he said, 'Thank you for the input.' But his eyes glazed over and you knew he'd do nothing. Idiots get promoted, hisses the tiger. Anger thrives on this kind of conversation. It justifies. It feels powerful. Soon anger says you are always right. It is a terrible, seductive lie.
Anger, the lying enemy, then has more power than you do. I am a good person, you say. My intentions are the best. I would never dream of hurting the ones I love. That's right, coos your anger. With a long tiger tongue it grooms its gleaming coat. It has won you over. Justification, that's all you need. The tiger feeds you justification.
But your loved ones, Ruth's children, Franklin's wife, pour blood from the cuts left by tiger attacks. Insults from a person who cares about them set off an alarm that doesn't silence. At the least it calls them to self protect. It triggers confusion, self doubt, even retaliation. Trust is broken. You, the good and caring person, have become a potential tiger.
The worst lie is that all of this doesn't count. Anger that has built to a climax, that has exploded, is followed by a flood of relief. In the good-but-angry person regret rises up, but relief is stronger. I'm OK now, he thinks, I'm in control. It won't happen again. After all I didn't mean anything I said.
The finger that pulls a trigger cannot know the helplessness of the heart that receives the bullet. You didn't mean it, says the tiger, that's all that matters. What did I mean, you wonder, but not for long. The tiger leaves no room for understanding. Anger is often a disguise for fear or deep hurt or sadness. We associate these other feelings with weakness. Anger, on the other hand, feels like power. By hiding behind the tiger, we stop our loved ones from knowing what is really happening. We make no room for compassion. We force others to see only tigers, and we blind ourselves.
Anger's lie sees no difference between reasons and excuses. When anger is justified, you say, other people should deal with it. Wait, says the crouching tiger, I want more than that. I want other people to make life smooth for me. The children must pay attention and never do those annoying things that set off the anger. Help me out family, demands the tiger, can't you see I need peace and quiet?
All these things I have learned from angry people. Now it is Ruth's turn. She has finished her story and looks to me for an answer.
"Well then," I say, and rub my hands together. "There's only one person in that story that you can hope to alter. So what do you need to change about you?"
Maureen McKane is a licensed clinical social worker from Aurora Illinois whose practice is based in St. Charles Illinois.
She can be reached at 630-377-7226 or info@mckaneassociates.com.
