Anger became an important topic in my therapy session today. It kind of sucked. I'm bad at it. I refuse to express it in anyway. She really did her best to get me to express it, but I struggled. And I had a bit of a rise, but then couldn't go much further. Basically, she noticed that I looked calm shortly after and asked me if I was suppressing anger, which I was. I couldn't express anger again.
I find outwardly showing anger terrifying. It feels like weakness to me. No one can know that they've gotten to me. In fact, no one can know than anything can ever get to me. If anyone know, then my Dad can know.
It's not had any positive outcomes at home. I get mocked or guilt tripped, if I ever show that my Dad's inconsiderate behavior upsets me. Anywho, story time. And I story that I haven't really ever told anyone to illustrate two things. I didn't show anger well and my father reacting inappropriately.
So let's go back about six year. I'm seventeen and my father is in a particularly horrible manic period. It's like 7:00am on a Sunday. I am awoken by my father who wants me to help him work on a car (by 'help' he basically means watch.) So, this is very annoying. It's the weekend, I'm seventeen, it's 7:00 in the morning. I wanna sleep in; High School basically meant not sleeping nearly enough during the week and trying to make up for that on the Weekends. So, waking me up for something that could just as well have been done later is infuriating.
So, I don't get up. He lingers being an annoying dick. Then, the fucker dumps water on me. I don't immediately hop up though; pride is a thing that I have. He keeps being an asshole, so I get up and angrily punch my closet door. He flips the fuck out and tackles me pinning me to my bed. I scream for him to get off me; he screams at me to calm down and that he's keeping me from wrecking the house. Mom comes down she yells to get him off me. He tries to justify it to her and this is the only time Mom actually threatened to leave him through all this shit.
The worst bit is that I still had to help him. I shouldn't have, but that's not the way the dynamic has ever worked. I can't remember exactly how it went down, but basically I felt I had to do it and Mom basically just wanted me to do it and get it over with. That is so much of the dynamic: don't fight, always appease. He's being horrible, but go along with horrible thing, because otherwise things will be more horrible.
So, there's more to this occurrence and it's fallout, but it's not entirely relevant. So quick summary, He came home with chest pains (I think they were probably phantom.) When he goes in for a Cardiac Catheterization, he tells me that I need to apologize to Mom for what happened; basically placing all the blame on me. Anyway, this incident was when I decided that the relationship wasn't salvageable.
Something my Therapist told me was that some of my anxiety is suppressed anger forcing itself out however it can. And I realized today that this is going to suck to fix. I feel like we have managed to crash some of my mental walls, but really facing anger and how to deal with it today seemed so daunting. The way I'm dealing with it right now is comfortable, because it's what I've done for so long, but horribly unhealthy. So stuff and things and hard.
Thanks for reading