Anger is a Thief

 My son's face darkened as his eyes flashed in fury. 

"I hate you! I wish you never married my mom!" August's voice was already raw from yelling, but he couldn't stop. He knew that in a few hours he would have to leave this home and go to his dad's house and now, he not only couldn't go to the park with his cousin, but he had lost video games as well. The injustice was punching his gut. 

How could they do this to me? 

He flailed his hands and growled. When that wasn't enough to satisfy his rage, he kicked at a cardboard box that sat near his feet. My new husband, Zack, tilted his head slightly, his eyes downcast.

"I am so sad for you August. You are such a good boy, but it seems like anger has stolen your love away." Zack kept his voice low but steady. He glanced up and for a second he caught August's gaze. As soon as August noticed Zack looking at him, his face contorted again. 

"I'M NOT LISTENING!" He shouted with feet stomping against the ground. Zack smiled weekly with his lips but his eyes were drooped in sorrow for the pain his young step-son was going through. Anger had taken over this once sweet boy.

Anger stole his love. 

While watching this transaction between my son and husband from the window, my heart was plagued with sorrow. I recognized his anger as the same thing I had fought with ever since I was a young child. Uncontrollable rage. 

I knew how my little boy was feeling. I had been there before. The anger would take over and I would say and do anything that would help me fight the injustice in my life. However, the only thing that my anger had led to was disappointed parents and low self-esteem. If I felt angry, I was a terrible person. 

I did not want August to go through the same thing I went through when I was young and angry, but how do you discipline a child for acting upon their anger when their anger is fully justified? 

If anyone had the right to be upset, it was August. Not only were his parents divorced, but we were constantly disagreeing on how to raise him. As much as I tried to hide my struggles with his biological dad, August still picked up on it. Now he had new rules with a new stepdad and he had just been informed that he would be moving again, making this his 12th move in his six years of life. Yes, his anger was more than valid. 

Does that mean when he hits his mom we should look the other way? Does that mean I should allow him to throw chairs at the wall and kick my tables? What if the only person he is hurting is himself when he decides to punch a brick wall? Is that okay? 

Anger is clouding his judgment. He is no longer my sweet, smiling little boy. He is still mine, but he's in pain, sad, lonely, confused, lost, and feels like he has no control over his unfair life. 

What do we do when Anger has stolen our love? Some simply teach that anger is evil so we should shove it deep inside where it can never escape. Is that what I should do? Teach August that he is entertaining the devil and he has to stop feeling those emotions? Or should I yell and shame him, hit him, beat him, and prove to him that my anger is more valid than his anger because I'm older and have more authority. That's how I was taught from a very young age. I turned out alright. Right? 

No. I set my jaw and planted my feet. No! Anger is a natural response to overpowering emotions. It is a warning that an injustice has been done. It is a tool that if trained correctly, can be used to stand up to the crap in the world. Training to use anger correctly takes hard work. I haven't quite mastered it myself yet.

However, because of my imperfections, I ache to give August the gift of learning how to correctly use anger. I want to teach him how anger can positively help navigate him through life's trials. I want to give him something I never had, confidence in his emotional reaction to disappointment. 

"Thunk!"

August caught me watching him through the window. His response was to pick up a plastic baseball bat and throw it at the window screen. My own jet of anger boiled inside of me. I let myself feel it spread through me. The way August was acting was not alright no matter what he was going through. Allowing him to use violence would not cure his rage, it would only feed it. 

My anger surged it's way into my brain and heart and then out to my limbs. I clenched my fists, feeling the anger turn into a vicious weapon. I wanted to start yelling as an instinctive reaction. Yelling would probably satisfy my anger's itch for the moment, but at what cost?

I took in a deep breath and forced that anger to turn into a damage-free solution. I couldn't continue letting him throw and kick things, but I also wouldn't encourage him to shove his anger down and pretend it wasn't there. I also didn't want to dominate his anger with my own rage. I slowed my shaking urges before I slipped out of the house to stand near my husband. 

"August, that's not okay to throw things at our house," I calmly informed him. "I need you to run ten laps." I wanted him to turn that anger into energy. "Running can make you strong. Ready, go."

August's face contorted in renewed fury. 

"I don't wanna be strong!!!" He protested. I shrugged my shoulders.

"I'm sorry bud, but you can't be throwing things at the house. Get running please.

"No!" He stopped his foot and folded his arms. 

"Fine, I guess now it has to be eleven laps. You had better start before it's twelve laps.

 August glared at me, but saw that I would not budge until his laps were run. With tears streaming down his face, he began to sprint from one fence to the other. 

As I watched my son run, I noticed that his tears paused. His shoulders relaxed, and his face changed from anger to determination.

Once he was done running, we went inside and discussed what caused his outburst. Zack and I listened patiently as he described his feelings in detail about his unfair life. We were able to make a plan for future issues. Zack and I explained our expectations and rules and August laid out some expectations of his own.

Our little family is far from perfect. We are not always fair or calm, but we are working towards peace. We are working towards making our home fit the name August gave it. The Good Times Place.

 Since that fight with August, I've been connecting it to the anger I see on social media and the news. On Facebook I see people divided, hurting, raging, wanting change. 

I understand that very much. I am one for justice. I believe that life should be fair. Everyone should be treated equally. I believe that every life matters but I also understand white privilege and the abuse of those privileges. 

I struggle with the idea that the government has too much control over my life. I no longer even have a will to vote because I feel like my vote doesn't count or matter. I don't trust anyone who can even afford to run for office.

I also feel that people like me, who survive paycheck-to-paycheck, slip through the cracks because we barely make too much money to receive government help even though we are the working ones. 

I am not black. However I know there are corrupt cops. I know there is racism. I know the government is biased and has too much power. I feel like government sites need to be updated and receiving help needs to be easier to access for those who are not technologically advanced. 

I feel like less money should be spent on construction and more on education. I think that renewing drivers licenses and registering cars should not cost $200. I also think that the credit score system is a mess. It's way easier to screw credit up than to fix it.

In addition, covid-19 is just ridiculous! I understand businesses requiring masks and encouraging standing six feet apart, but they are going overboard. How sad is it that hospitals are not allowing a comfort person to go in with the injured or sick without a negative test? Because the fear of a lawsuit is more important than humans, many people have to go through grieving and sicknesses alone. Don't they know that forcing people to isolate will cause more depression than covid cases?

I have so much anger inside of me! The school systems are a mess. Businesses are a mess. Inequality is a mess. The police system is a mess. The government is definitely a mess. It also sucks that courts are backed up while I'm trying to get custody of my son and he does not have a say on which parent he would rather live with. Instead I have to bring him to his dad's, kicking and screaming. 

It's not fair! I'm so angry at the injustice, but, I will not let my anger steal my love. 

just like I would not let my child throw things at my house or hurt my husband, I will not let my own anger harm others. 

Yes. I could fight. I could destroy things. I could hurt innocent people. I could un-friend every person that disagrees with me. I could make an already difficult situation unbearable and maybe I would be listened to. Maybe I would get my way, but at what cost?

No, I will not demand respect by disrespecting others. It's okay to set boundaries, but once I start acting out like a child pulling a fit, I'm just proving to people that I don't deserve that respect. 

I will speak out about injustice. I will use my mind and my agency to come up with non-violent methods of setting boundaries and creating change. I can refuse to wear a mask in those situations when it makes no logical sense and I can question people in authority. I will not obey blindly. 

I am willing to look for solutions that don't make the innocent suffer. I will stay open minded to ideas on how I can make a change. 

So I ask you, how can I change my anger from a weapon into a tool? How can I use my anger to get justice without turning it into revenge? People fight when they feel it is the last resort and when they don't know what else to do. They use violence when they feel trapped and helped. So how can we band together and seek Justice in this unbalanced world? Help me.

Stop anger from stealing love. What can we do?