On Facing the Dark, Ugly Side of Your Personality

Start where you are. This is very important...You may be the most violent person in the world—that’s a fine place to start. That’s a very rich place to start—juicy, smelly. You might be the most depressed person in the world, the most addicted person in the world, the most jealous person in the world. You might think that there are no others on the planet who hate themselves as much as you do. All of that is a good place to start. Just where you are—that’s the place to start.

―Pema Chödrön, Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living

Yesterday, I had a brief moment of clarity while in a yoga class (isn't that where all moments of clarity happen?). In this moment, for some reason or another, I was able to step outside of myself and look at my current emotional state from a distance. When I did this, I didn't love what I saw, but I was able to admit something that I've been quick to brush off over the past few months: I've been feeling too much anger lately.

I know this doesn't sound yogic (or like what you want to hear from your yoga teacher!? Eek!), but it's true.

When I say anger, I don't mean anger in the dangerous, "anger management" kind of way, where you punch a wall or hurt someone or something when you're mad, but rather, the type of anger that starts as frustration or annoyance and then bubbles up into something more, something less controllable and more all-consuming--emotions that seemingly come out of nowhere and can wreck an otherwise wonderful day or good mood and leave you feeling spent and sour.

This type of anger is just sitting there under the surface, waiting to be ignited by everyday occurrences. It's the anger that comes up when I see that Ben has left his dirty workout clothes in a pile at the bottom of the stairs yet again--despite my asking him EVERY DAY not to. It's the anger that bubbles up when I finally sit down to get some work done during Charlie Mae's nap and see that our wifi is down (and thus, will take 15 precious minutes to reboot). It's the anger that takes a hold of me when Sayde barks her head off at yet another jogger going by the house on a sunny morning, when I'm already dealing with a cranky baby and just can't handle anymore noise. It's the household, everyday life, mom-equivalent of road rage (that obviously doesn't involve a vehicle or a road).  

I've always had a unique form of a quick temper: I can withstand quite a bit for quite a while but then, when I reach my breaking point, my emotions flair up quickly and intensely.

I remember back when I was young and my little brother would be doing something to harass me or make me mad, I could handle it for longer than most might be able to, but when I lost it, I would really lose it, walloping him or screaming/crying uncontrollably, or perhaps throwing something at him and running away in a fit. I would lose control of myself for a moment and then always feel embarrassed and bad about it shortly thereafter.

And while I'd like to say that things have changed and I've grown up and never experience these little anger-driven tantrums anymore, that would be a lie. These days I still experience them, but they're most often directed at my husband (without the childhood violence, of course), who bears the brunt of my frustration-caused anger outburts. And while I do feel that some of this frustration is justified, admittedly, most of the time, the [emotional] punishment doesn't fit the [petty] crime he has committed. 

I think my current anger is the result of overwhelm and too much to think about and so many life changes over the past year (and of course, some legitimate causes of actual frustration, as previously noted), but still, it's real and it's raw and I don't like how it makes me feel or act. 

I want to change.

The good news is that I've admitted that I'm struggling, which, as we all know, is always the first step towards change. Also, I have a therapist and an appointment today, so am already set up to do the hard work that it takes to change, which makes me feel hopeful about where I'm headed. 

So, now it's your turn: since I've admitted this vulnerability and shared this ugly, dark side of my own personality, I challenge you to do some similar self-reflection.

​What part of yourself are you scared to look at and face head-on? What are you hiding from yourself or excusing by blaming others, or by blaming stress and the toll of everyday life? What part of yourself do you really want to change, even if it feels impossible?

I urge you to take a look at your own personality + emotional state and, in the wise words of my very favorite mindfulness teacher, Pema Chodron, think about starting where you are {ASAP!}. It's hard, but you've got to do the work. And if there's anything that our world needs right now, it's more honesty and more open, vulnerable self-reflection with the end goal of better communication and more peaceful interactions among individuals. 

Photo by Saketh Garuda on Unsplash