My journey through pain - 12. Chapter 12 - Anger and Change

Yesterday, for the first time ever I think since the bad things happened in my life, I got angry. It’s weird, but before everything came to a head and exploded in the worst possible way a few months ago, I was constantly angry at anything and everything. Since my relationship was going down the drain and things were getting increasingly abusive, I think I was taking all of that veiled violence out on the world at large. It was not a good way to live, not a good way to feel, and I have changed so much in the past few months that to look back on the person I was back then is scary – I had strayed so far away from the person I think is the real me. I was becoming this very angry man that would get into an argument with anyone at the slightest hint of something not going his way.

And then the horrible break of happened, and many other things besides. My life fell apart in front of my eyes, or so it seemed at the time. I was forced to look at myself in an entirely different way, forced to realize that I needed to change, to learn, to adapt. It’s the only way I’m going to be able to truly live with reality as it is now, with the way anxiety attacks and panic episodes are threaded through the hours. In some things, I changed very fast. It was like somebody had flipped a switch. One of the things that changed right away, and which I only now just realized last night, was my dependence on food as a coping mechanism. I used to gravitate towards excessive amounts of sweet things because they were the only thing that made me feel okay. I could easily have a pint of ice cream for dessert each evening. I also used to have horrible cravings and, despite the fact that I kept my weight somewhat under control through exercise and discipline, it was very hard. Now, that obsession seems trivial. For the first time ever I’m having trouble working up an appetite and the change has been sobering. I’m learning now how to eat well and in proper quantities, not too little and not too much. For someone who has had trouble with overeating ever since my depression kicked into high gear, more than a decade ago, this change is a golden opportunity to do things right.

I have also overcome, seemingly overnight, another thing which used to drag me down: my social anxiety. In the past, whenever I had to meet anyone new I would stress about it for weeks, literally, and be shaking by the time the reunion took place. I would play it cool and be successful most of the times, making a good impression at work or in social events. But afterwards, I would be a nervous wreck for several days before finally feeling better. Spur of the moment things would scare me so much. I felt like I needed lots of time to mentally prepare for going to dinner with someone or meeting a new person or whatever, and I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that my social anxiety was crippling my ability to connect with other people in real life. Now, though, everything seems to have changed. Maybe it’s the trauma of having seen real, physical danger to my life, but over the holiday break I met several new people and my social anxiety was almost gone. It was a very radical change, and one which goes hand-in-hand with the fact that I am learning how to reach out for support when I need it, for the first time ever it seems. This is also a good change, and I plan to keep on working to make things better in that regard.

And then there’s the anger. Yesterday I got angry for the first time in months. I got angry at myself, at the fact that I was having a really rough morning with a particularly strong anxiety attack which made me feel like I couldn’t leave my house. I wanted to go to the gym and couldn’t work up the courage to open the door to leave. I get these waves of what I’m calling agoraphobia every now and then, but I thought I had been making progress and it was very frustrating to me to see that I was having such a horrible morning. I have spoken before of how awful mornings are for me. I don’t know why, but most days I wake up nearly trembling from anxiety at the prospect of having to live through another day with all the challenges that entails. The last couple hours before my alarm clock goes off I spend mostly awake, feeling very nervous and trapped in my bed. I can’t just wake up and start the day early because I don’t have anything to do so early on, and it’s really cold and then I will feel very tired which will only make everything worse. But staying in bed for those last couple hours can be very challenging. I resort to prayer and sometimes doze off again. Other times I don’t. But I keep working at it, and I am making very slow but steady progress.

Nevertheless, yesterday something kind of snapped in my mind. I got angry at the fact that, and I know this is an irrational thought, despite everything I’ve been doing I can still feel as bad as I did yesterday. Today I don’t feel my best either, and it’s scary. I know I can’t expect for this process of such strong emotions to follow a linear pattern of feeling steadily better with no going back down. I remember the analogy of the spiral, where I might go back to feeling bad and it might seem I have made no progress at all, but that’s not true, because my spiral journey is taking me out and away from the pit where it started and towards something better. A better place, emotionally. This is key and I know I need a lot of patience to truly understand it and learn how to bear the bad times. But yesterday, I got really impatient and anger burst out of me. It was odd, and scary, because I thought I was losing control, but instead of doing something destructive, I reached out to someone and I was able to vent, to talk through my anger, and I realized that I was able to direct it towards something constructive: I realized I was angry at my own tendency to feel sorry for myself. I remember saying out loud, ‘I am angry at how I get when I don’t feel well. Moping around isn’t helping me. I need to do something to help myself.’

Afterwards, I did small things, which for me were very great victories. Things done while carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders it seemed. I took the dog out for a walk. I cleaned the yard, swept away some of the leaves which had gathered around. Then I had work, and I put a lot of effort into doing a good job and being present in the moment, not thinking about anything but my job, and by the time my shift was over, it was already evening and I felt… calmer. So much so that I was able to think forward to today, make a plan for the day, and have a restful night’s sleep.

I don’t even know what to make of yesterday’s anger. It felt dangerous, because even though I was able to redirect it to somewhere positive, I felt as if I were balancing on a tightrope with complete loss of control on either side and a positive outcome only straight ahead. I was able to maintain my balance, and the person I vented to told me that even the anger showed signs that I am making progress. For months now, I had been unable to express that emotion, trapped as I was, and I guess I still am a little bit, by the horrible anxiety which overshadows everything else. And yet, if I zoom out, which is hard for me to do, I can see the bigger picture and see that I am moving forward. I think. Even the fact that today I have regained enough presence of mind to sit down and write this is a good sign. Yesterday I couldn’t have done it, not before the afternoon at least. And today, when I woke up, I was also very nervous and anxious, but a little less so than yesterday. I’m not sure whether I should count yesterday as a victory, but then again I’m not sure I should continue seeing each day as a battle to be won. I need my perspective to shift, to see each day as a beautiful opportunity for living instead of another opportunity for suffering. It’s very hard. This process, all of it, is literally the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and while the circumstances that triggered it might not seem like that big of a deal to others, to me this is the ultimate test. It’s also the greatest opportunity I’ve ever had to turn my life around, to stop being that angry man and become someone truly compassionate, someone who understands suffering a little bit.

I hope I can keep going. I want to keep going. This is the beginning of a new year, and I want to make it the best one in my life, precisely because I am struggling so much at the moment. Just writing about this has helped. And there is a small voice in the back of my mind, tiny as of yet but growing more distinct as weeks pass. This voice is whispering something to me which I can barely make out. It says:

You got this.