Letting Go

I'm about to write a post I never would have even considered writing three years ago. But here goes.

One of the most painful, horrible, unbearable parts of dealing with the aftermath of sibling abuse is carrying around the all-consuming rage that burns in your soul and permeates through every aspect of your being. Where does this rage come from? The simple answer is that is stems from years of having been tortured and traumatized by siblings. But it's actually an agglomeration of things. My rage was a combination of the anger, resentment, frustration, helplessness, humiliation and indignation inflicted upon me after countless encounters of my siblings abusing me and my parents dismissing and neglecting me.

I could never give you a full picture of what I went through. All I can do is convey the following snapshot: I spent many, many nights in my room doing various activities to "work through" my anger, like screaming into pillows, biting things, punching things, clenching my teeth, tearing things into bits. Anything to release a valve on the pent-up energy constantly threatening to explode somewhere, anywhere. I cried many times, too. I felt helpless and alone and constantly found myself thinking that I desperately needed help. But help was nowhere to be found. Nearly every day, I would walk around in an angry cloud, appearing normal on the outside, but feeling the rage underneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

I'd heard about "forgiveness"--pardoning someone for what they've done wrong. But that idea never seemed right to me. How can I look at the evidence, the piles upon piles of mental testimony I've collected, and say that the aggressor is..."forgiven?" How is that a good thing? Isn't that just enabling?

Well, I haven't reached a final answer to that question. I don't know if I'll ever truly "forgive." But I have dealt more and more with something I'm calling "letting go."

Letting go means taking the anger stored inside you, and....letting go of it. It means telling yourself, "I have decided to release my anger. I am no longer going to carry it with me. It has burned a hole in my heart, and I no longer welcome it. It doesn't have a home inside me anymore."

But wait a minute! Isn't that repression?

Not quite. Repression is denying your feelings. Letting go is acknowledging your feelings, and then releasing them. It is, in a way, moving on. It is staying in the present and absorbing all the energy from the present moment, rather than letting past energy consume you.

And it deals with yourself, and yourself only. Not the other person who hurt you. They don't even have to know you've "moved on" or "let go." The sibling I'm thinking about--the one I cut out of my life--has no idea I'm writing this post, or that I'm in the process of letting go, or anything like that.

Letting go is a process I struggle with. Even just now, I had an anger episode when I started thinking about my family. But whenever I do manage to "let go," it is the best gift I can give myself. I feel so at peace that day, after I've let go of my anger. I feel in control, and not taken down by my resentment.

And one more thing. Letting go does not mean no longer fighting for justice. It is okay to do the things you feel you must do to hold the guilty party (or parties) accountable (i.e., the aforementioned sibling who is still cut out of my life). Letting go does not make you weak. It puts you at peace, grants you control over your life, and makes you emotionally and physically healthier.

So try to let go today.

Dealing with Your Anger

For the past six years, I have been angry all the time. Every day, I've walked around with a black cloud over my head, my heart pounding, my teeth gritted and my hands clenched in fists. For those of you dealing with the aftermath of sibling abuse (or currently living through it), you are well acquainted with this sensation. Resentment is the shadow stubbornly stuck to the side of any sibling abuse survivor. And it feels like no matter what, you can't get rid of it. 

Even when life was going well, my anger was always bubbling underneath the surface. I was a volcano who was going to explode at any moment. In the company of great friends, I was angry. Seeing a long-awaited movie in the theaters, I was angry. Catching a glimpse of my crush across the hall, I was angry. Eating great food, finding the perfect shirt in the mall, watching the sunset on the beach, hearing my favorite song coming on the radio, during all of those events, I was angry. 

My resentment came from lots of things--being picked on by my siblings, not being protected by my parents, not being allowed to stand up for myself, and all of the other injustices, disappointments and heartbreaks that happened in my family. 

I found that even when I left the nest, my anger came with me. I couldn't let it go. At least when you're at home, your anger can serve a purpose. It is a natural reaction to those who abuse you, and can serve to protect you when the need arises. But when you've left those people behind, there's no longer a reason to be as angry as you were. But no matter how frequently I told myself that, my anger stayed with me. 

I'd consulted many sources of wisdom, from Buddha to Elizabeth Gilbert (the author of Eat,Pray, Love) on dealing with resentment. Each one of them said basically the same thing: holding on to anger was not healthy, and it was best to "just let it go." 

Okay, I'd think to myself whenever I read something about "letting anger go," but it's not that easy. How do I "let it go" without doing what I've been doing my entire life: repressing my feelings and making myself even angrier?

It turns out there's an exact art and science to it.

I've tried many different ways to let myself be happier and put my anger aside. Here's what has worked and what hasn't.

It's not about repressing your feelings. 
If you're doing it right, putting your anger aside shouldn't involve repression. The first time I tried to conquer my demons was a near catastrophe. It was a school field trip, and I was with my classmates, walking around a city, listening to a boring speaker drone on about historical facts I didn't care about. Demons are often triggered by frustrating events (at least I've noticed that for me), and what was frustrating me was the fact that we were standing in the freezing cold rain, bracing ourselves from the wind, and listening to a lady who just wouldn't shut up. It's like she didn't even notice the weather, because she happily stood there for about fifteen minutes yammering on about something I couldn't even hear over the noise of the wind and road. 

Resentment is when an emotion like anger is attached to an old memory. When something in your current life makes you feel frustrated, memories attached to frustration can surface, making you more frustrated. So that moment, when my emotions came bubbling up to the surface, I thought if I just told myself, "don't be angry," everything would be all right. Big mistake.

As had always happened in previous years whenever I tried to stuff my feelings down, I ended up getting angrier. For the rest of the tour, I was boiling inside, about to explode. "THIS 'LET IT GO' STUFF DOESN'T WORK!" I was screaming to myself in my head, "I think I'd rather be angry." Actually, typing this makes me angry. Phew, I need to calm down. Hold on a sec.

Ok, I'm back.

As I was saying, freeing yourself from your anger shouldn't involve repressing your feelings. It involves different formula.

It's about redirecting your thoughts.
When I observed my own thought processes, I began to notice that there were many triggers for my anger, not just frustration. Being the introvert that I am, I frequently get lost in my thoughts. When I'm just standing around, thinking, my thoughts turn to all my old memories of having been in situations where I was hurt and powerless. And then I get angry.

When I get lost in my thoughts, my mind begins churning up things my parents and siblings have done and said to me. It's like my brain thrives on anger, and will not work unless fury is churning around in it. 

What I decided to do instead of saying no to the angry feelings, was to say no to the images attached to the feelings. For example, instead of saying, "I will not be angry," to myself in the middle of a frustrating event, I would tell myself, "I will not think about the event that is making me angry." I would tell myself, "I will not think about the siblings who tortured me, the parents who didn't do their job, or the place where the event occurred." This new method helped a lot. 

Additionally, I would redirect my mind to think of positive things. I would think of things that had gone well recently, like a compliment I had received, or some good food I'd eaten, or a new friend I'd made. Focusing on the good events and throwing away the bad ones gave me a greater sense of control over my life. And a part of me really liked that. The fact that I could make myself happier while respecting my anger was the key.

Your anger will still be respected.
The reason why I had resisted "turning off" my anger for so long was because I felt like it would have been treating my anger disrespectfully. If you're like me, then you probably think as I do, that you have a right to be angry. And you do! Anger is a natural and healthy response to what has happened to you. It's not wrong. When someone has treated you badly, it would be foolish to not be angry. 

But when you're out and about, living your life, letting your anger consume you is also unwise. It is far, far better to tell your angry thoughts, "Okay, I hear you, I know how you feel, and right now I'm going to give you a break and focus on the good things in my life." Your anger is still there, and it still has its place, but that place is not interfering with the life you're currently living. 

And when it's time to use your anger, you can choose to let it out. Use your anger productively, and tell your parents and siblings about how they have hurt you. This will be another post entirely, but using anger in that fashion is also a good way to respect your feelings.

Finally, it is important to remember that deciding to be happy does not make you weak. In fact, releasing anger's grip on you is one of the strongest things you can do. Happiness is not for ninnies. Happiness is a goal for all of us who are striving to live well. And living well is the best revenge.   



      

Unleash the Beast

I always thought anger was a bad thing.

We are not allowed to express anger. In our daily interactions, we must wear a fake, pleasant smile no matter how we really feel. We are taught that if we ever do "snap," we are horrible people. We have turned into monsters who cannot control our base instincts. Anger is a beast that must be locked up and never let out. If you've ever struggled with demons, you know that anger doesn't like this. The beast rebels inside of you, kicking and scratching at the cage you've made for it. In your attempts to be A Good Person, you must fight back harder, ensuring the monster never sees the light of day. This is quite possibly the worst thing we can do.

Here's something I learned the hard way: Repression often makes anger worse. Suppressing one's feelings never makes them go away. Nursing your demons ensures that the beast will grow larger inside of you. When people do not express their angry feelings, they will turn their anger inward. This will lead to depression, physical ailments, and self-destructive behavior. People who bottle up their anger will often turn to self-medication like drugs and alcohol. They may experience physical symptoms like headaches, stomachaches, insomnia, and heart palpitations. To get rid of your anger, do the exact opposite of repressing it--express it! Unleash the beast. 

After years and years of controlling my anger, I finally realized the healing power of expressing my feelings one day when I decided to beat my mattress to a pulp. I had been really angry just before, and decided to really go for it. After 15 minutes of pounding, I stood up, took a breath . . . and felt a sense of release. It was unlike anything I had ever felt after a rage attack. I felt a little bit lighter--much lighter than I usually do. Usually I just feel dead. 

Some research and experimenting made me find other methods for expressing anger. Destroying things is a great way to release negative energy. Break old dishes. Throw them against the wall. Shred old phone books or newspapers. If you have a picture of your abuser, take it, scribble away on it, and tear it up. This was especially powerful for me. I once drew on and cut up a picture of my abuser, and made sure to scribble her face out as hard as I could. When I saw the pieces lying on the floor, I thought to myself, "Wow. This is how much I hate her. This is a visual representation of my rage toward my sibling." Seeing my anger in visual form helped make my feelings more real. Before, I had been shoving them aside. Now they were demanding I take them seriously.

Vocalize your feelings. Find a safe place to scream, or scream into your pillow. Think of phrases you want to say to your abuser now that you could not say back then: "I hate what you've done to me! I hate you! I hate how much you've hurt me!" One day, when I was alone in the house (I went through every room to make sure), I found myself screaming my feelings to the air. I imagined my sibling was standing right in front of me, and found myself screaming over and over again, "You fucker!!! You fucker!!! You fucker!!!" It felt good.

During these vocalizations, it can be helpful to fantasize revenge. I once read about a woman who was sexually abused by her father. This woman would often imagine herself walking into her parents' living room, shotgun in hand, and shooting her father's testicles off. I myself like to imagine beating my abuser to a pulp. 

For victims of emotional abuse, actual revenge is often possible. In an emotionally abusive sibling relationship, the abused sibling often grows up and abuses their abuser. I am not at all opposed to this tactic. In fact, I've seen it be quite effective. This is often a great way for the abused sibling to exorcise their demons. The abuser also gets what they deserve. It is often only a taste of their own medicine that will truly do the trick. It is also a good way to give the abuser consequences. It's a good way to show them that their actions will not be excused. 

Of course, for victims of physical or sexual abuse, revenge is not a good idea. You don't want to end up in jail. Some victims of severe abuse find retribution through either criminal or civil court. Other victims find revenge through igniting social change by speaking out against abuse or by advocating for victims' rights in the legal system. 

Another tactic is to write, but not send, a letter to all the people responsible for abusing you or failing to protect you. Be as harsh as you want to be. Let them hear you roar. Tell them how they've hurt you and how they failed you. Let them know all your feelings. Don't stop writing until you've said all you want to say. It might be even more helpful to read this letter aloud, as if you are speaking to the person you're writing to.

Another tool to use is the art of telling. Talk to a friend who will sympathetically listen to your stories of abuse. I remember how good it felt the first time I opened up to a friend about my messed-up family life, and she responded to my woes with, "That sounds very infuriating!" Such validation gives an emotional "hug" to the wounded parts of your soul. It is very, very important that your hurt feelings be treated respectfully. Don't waste time with a dismisser or a victim blamer. Keep sharing your pain with others until you find someone who is supportive. 

The most important thing to know about anger is that it should not be denied. Anger is not a feeling to be ashamed of. It needs to be acknowledged, worked through and respected. Anger will not disappear by being dismissed. Take ownership of it. Confront your anger head-on. Work through it day by day and see what happens. 

It's important to think of this as a process. I've noticed that angry people are often advised to "just let go" of their feelings. It doesn't happen like that. The feelings must be worked through first. You cannot force yourself to forgive before you're ready. If you do, you're likely living in denial.

Anger is not bad. For the healing process, it's actually very good. When you express your feelings, you can turn your demons into your allies, and have them help you heal.  

Demons

I was on my morning jog when they attacked me again. Maybe you’ve also experienced them. These annoying year-round pests come over uninvited, grab hold of your memories and emotions and insist on staying there. I call them my demons. The disease works in the following way:

You’ll be going along, minding your own business, when WHAM! a terrible memory from the past enters your mind. It usually comes when you’re working on something frustrating, but they can show up at any time. After they appear, they go through the Rolodex of your memories, pick the ones that carry the worst emotions, and play them on the IMAX screen in your brain. Then you are forced to relive this memory as well as the rage, pain, and frustration that is associated with it. And no matter how hard you try, you can’t shake them off. They have a death grip on you, and you are forced to submit to them. These little gremlins don’t just know how to hold your mind hostage; they also do it in the worst possible way. They like to pick incidents of particular injustice where you were powerless, when you didn’t fight back, when you were abused. They revel in your sense of despair and anger. You hate them. You have not figured out how to get rid of them. Usually they stay for a while and then disappear, but they always come back. Like the ants in your bathroom. You’re starting to feel like they’re a hopeless case. No matter what you do, they will not leave you alone.

From my own experience, I know that these monsters wreak all types of havoc. During these episodes, I have intense physical reactions. I clench my teeth. I ball my hands into fists. I punch myself. I bite myself. I leave bruises that last for days and teeth marks that last for hours. I chew on my lips and the insides of my cheeks. I feel the anger burning all over my body. It leaves a hard lump in my throat. My stomach clenches up. My adrenaline reaches dangerous levels, and I don’t know what to do with it.

What might be even worse than the anger itself is being forced to bottle it up. No matter how angry I feel, no matter how much I’m seething on the inside, I must carry about my normal routine and not lash out at innocent bystanders. I don’t want to be the next shooter to make national headlines. So I control myself as much as possible and hide any sign that anything is out of the ordinary. Looking at me, you would never guess that I want to throttle something. But you would be dead wrong. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve beaten the crap out of my mattress or screamed into my pillow. Sometimes it feels as if I’m always angry.  

I want to let go of my anger. Believe me, I do. But it’s not that easy. I’ve heard what people have said about dealing with anger—that in the end, it just affects you, and you need to drop it.  My pal Buddha gives the best summary of what many have said about letting go of anger. He said, “Holding on to anger is like holding on to a hot coal with the intention of throwing it at someone else. In the end, you are the one who gets burned.”

Sage advice. But I’m not Buddha. And expunging one’s anger is easier said than done.

I don’t believe that I willingly “choose” to hold on to my anger as much as it chooses to hold on to me. I have tried countless times to do what I can to not let my demons overcome me. I distract myself, I take naps, I listen to music, I try to think about different things. Nothing helps. Furthermore, my soul rebels at the idea of “letting go” of anger. I don’t like the idea of writing off a debt someone owes me. Some people call this “forgiveness.”  Every time I get close to “forgiving” it feels like I’m saying that what my siblings did to me was no big deal after all. I don’t like that. Anger is a healthy and appropriate emotion in the face of a memory of an abusive incident.    

But I do believe that chronic anger is unhealthy. I once had a therapist say to me, “I’m hesitant to tell you this, but I will. Bad things happen to people who are angry all the time. A lot of them end up getting cancer. That energy is really bad for the body. It can do terrible things to you.” This news shocked me. And it made me even more worried about my mental health. You don’t need to be a doctor to know that being angry all the time isn’t good. I don’t like being angry. It’s not fun for me. I don’t like giving myself bruises and bite marks. It’s also not fair to me. I’ve been abused way too much by others; I don’t need to add myself to the list. I live for the day where I will no longer be angry. That will be a wonderful, wonderful day for me.

But that day is very far away. Letting go of anger is not easy. Someone who hasn’t been through a trauma doesn’t understand exactly how hard it is to recover from it. They’ll give advice along the lines of, “This, too, shall pass.” That silly saying doesn’t apply to life struggles like this. Some things don’t “pass” without leaving permanent scars behind. You can still be reeling from the effects of abuse even decades after the fact.

My demons are some of my scars. I’m a pretty young person and coping with them. I know people in their forties and fifties who are doing the same. Hopefully that won’t be me. Hopefully one day I’ll find the perfect antidote to rid myself of them forever. For I know that if you don't find some way to exorcise your demons, they'll beat you up for the rest of your life.