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Originally Posted by Janeytwo
For me, anger was a mask; a safe one.
I had a problem not expressing my anger. I would front on people - no matter how many opponents I faced. I would throw things at people....I was viciously loyal to friends and visciously "against" enemies.
Anger was a drug; a way to feel in control.
Behind it though? Behind it lay fear....no....terror.
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Janey, we sure sound a lot alike in a lot of ways... It's always been easier for me to become frustrated and angry over small things, over rejections, over self-perceived slights, over hurts... I, too, was that type of loyal friend in childhood who would face the bullies down who were picking on the smaller kids or on my friends. And I was also the type of kid who took on a dare, especially if it was a double dare. I got physically injured pretty badly a couple times from playing "chicken" in the middle of the road against older kids on bicycles. I was the one who refused to flinch and move out of the way... I stood there and let a kid twice my age run into me with his bike. Fearless, foolish, and scared to death underneath it all.
The strange thing I find, though, is that the
real issues that deserve my fury, my righteous anger are the ones I don't deal with, the ones I bury deep inside of me. And those are the ones that scare the hell out of me, that I'm afraid to face head-on. Those are the ones I'm having trouble with now.