The Protective Function of My Anger

[Gently]

Writing in my journal this morning about this part of me, the adult part of me, that wants to be powerful and free to choose to do what I want to do. What I want to do is to be able to bring myself into the presence of my Adoptive Mother on my own terms, to face her. I want this. There is a want in me to be able to do this.

The vulnerable and hurt parts of me have correctly warned me against doing such a thing. They are afraid, and rightly so. They are afraid of, once again, becoming powerless, person-less, erased, falling into a false reality that Mother insists on. They are right, that is the risk, the very real risk. Taking care of these parts means I have to stay away from being triggered into old patterns of self-betrayal and the abdication of my personal agency. It means staying away from Mother.

Because I go to her soft, I go to her in hope and in fantasy, I go to her wanting and fawning and placating and pleasing and performing and trying to look like a certain type of daughter with a certain type of Mother. I don't go angry. I never go angry.

As I wrote in my journal about this, I felt the anger about the injustice of being in this situation, of the things that happened to me to result in being in this situation. I feel it now, I feel my facial expression, the revulsion of my furrowed brow, the disgust of the slight snarl in my upper lip, the challenging and deeply protective gaze in my eyes towards any threat to my tender self and my wellbeing.

I need this anger. While I allow this healthy anger to be present in my body, I can feel those previously scared parts calm down, settle, relax. They sit back, exhale, actually feel "chill".

I need this anger to prevent me from going into fawn mode and desperation for love that is not there.

That is the real threat. My Mother is old and frail and in hospital. I have every power over my own life and the decisions I make. She can't actually hurt me anymore.

The real threat is that I will loose myself. And I have lost myself. I have yet to not loose myself after putting myself in her presence.

I don't want to loose myself again. That is not negotiable.

I also want to feel powerful enough to follow an adult impulse to face her, to see her.

Anger, righteous, healthy anger is protective. I feel its protection, my system feels its protection.

This anger is FOR ME. This anger is protective.

Maybe I don't go to see her after all, maybe I do. I don't know. I do know that I need to protect myself, and this anger makes the vulnerable parts of me feel safe.

[TheBigBlue]

Hi Gently,

I haven't really found anger yet - or at least very little (and my therapists keep telling me this will likely change).

But I really hear you on losing yourself after being in your mother's presence. I'm still fawning too ... and for now, I'm trying to make some peace with it, because it feels like the better of two difficult options in an impossible situation.

What shifted for me recently was the awareness. It made me cry very hard when I told my CBT therapist that "considering the options, I rather choose self-erasure." Saying that out loud felt ... very real and sad. I think I still have a long way to go.

What you wrote about anger being protective, and helping those vulnerable parts settle, really resonated with me - even if I'm not quite there yet myself.

Thank you for sharing this. 💛

[Gently]

What shifted for me recently was the awareness. It made me cry very hard when I told my CBT therapist that "considering the options, I rather choose self-erasure." Saying that out loud felt ... very real and sad

Awareness... crying very hard.... reality.... deep sadness

Good, good work.

And good, good grief.

I'm so sorry. It hurts so, so much.

You're doing exactly what you need to be doing at the time you are doing it.

Stay with yourself 

[Gently]

This is what I drew when I found my anger, in case an image helps others...

[NarcKiddo]

I have heard it suggested that anger is often the emotion we most notice when another, tougher one to deal with, is hiding beneath. I've had similar feelings to you about the protective quality of anger against my  M, though I never show anger directly to her. In my case I think the anger is often masking fear. Fear that I will, yet again, cave in to her or give her the benefit of the doubt, or hope she might love me. None of those things help me so the anger makes a nice wall to put in front of it all. My anger against her treatment is objectively reasonable but I think at times it has also allowed me to feel righteous anger without dealing with the pain of what lies beneath. I am not suggesting that is the case for you but I mention it in case the notion is of any interest or help as you consider this. In my case I have started poking around under the anger with my T and there are some very raw and painful places there. So if you feel inclined to go poking around under your anger please be gentle with yourself.

[Marcine]

Hi Gently,
I relate with your descriptions of mandatory fawning-softness and anger being taboo. (My mother was the only one allowed to be enraged.) This toxic combination squashed my self in compulsive sacrifice to the family/cult.

It's been a long journey for me of thawing out feelings, angering, grieving, seeing things clearly, hiding, accepting, raging, mourning... round and round.

I've begun to experience a natural yin-yang balance in myself between safe-soft and strong-boundaried. A seeming paradox which feels more like a whole.

I sense your determination and intuitive knowing of what you need. I think the anger drawing you posted is great!

It sounds to me that you are honoring your process, your nature, your truth. Which is beautiful, powerful, and real!

[Gently]

Since originally posting, and reading other's thoughtful comments (thank you), the sadness behind the anger, along with another level of acceptance, has emerged.

I have heard the thought that anger masks other feelings. For me, this time around, it was the gateway to those other feelings. The sadness and acceptance I began to experience came BECAUSE I allowed and acknowledged and used rightful anger towards what happened to me, towards those who were responsible, for protection.

I think the anger, self protective anger, lets our systems know that we are "on watch" as needed and can keep us safe enough to allow the softer parts to show themselves. We've created a safe, protected, defended (in a good way) environment.

Anger was a really important stage in my recovery. When it came, it was fierce. Not scary, but supportive. It was productive. My therapist at the time would delight when I showed little spurts of anger, and say "I like this part a lot!" Man, she was good. She woo'd my anger, my emotions, with her accepting and interested attention. She was a safe place to feel anger.

Eventually, I needed a more specialized therapist for the softer parts of me, one that understood adoption trauma, who could innately connect to very young parts. (I didn't know that at the time, but that's what she has been able to do.) That first one didn't get it well enough and I could feel the block. I could feel that she expected me to be more emotionally mature after 18 months of working together. She just didn't have the infant trauma piece inside of her. Her own experience with trauma was too different. There was nowhere for what I was presenting to land in her, naturally. I felt like she was "getting tired of hearing me whine". I knew I still needed emotional empathy. I still didn't feel completely understood, and she was not going to be able to do it, at least not before I really felt like I was disappointing her and started to censor myself.

Okay, that was a therapy tangent, but it was nice for me to walk down memory lane a bit.

It's so good to have a place to put all of this part of my life, and to read about yours, and to connect with people who just "get it"!

[Hope67]

Gently, I really found all the things you wrote in your thread, plus the things people said in response, to be helpful for me to think more about my own experiences of anger.  I haven't got anything helpful to add, except to say that I appreciate you sharing your experiences.  I hope that you find a therapist who can meet your therapeutic needs.  Glad you've joined this forum. 

[Gently]

Thank you, Hope, I'm so glad. I benefit greatly from reading other people, too.

I did find another therapist almost right away.