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  • Writer's picturemegonmcdonough

Anger is Sad’s bodyguard ~ Anonymous

Updated: Oct 16, 2020

Let’s get right to it, I want to talk about grief. Specifically, the grief that comes from loss, profound and heartbreaking loss. There’s so much talk of how angry everyone is, but not a word of how grief stricken we are. This is not about anger being bad - just the opposite, hey, I’m so angry that writing this is taking away from my yelling at the TV time. This is about what’s underneath the anger. There’s also lots of talk about how divided we are and how crazy the end of the world is. Oh yeah, the end of the world. While it may truly be the end of the world, but, the end of the world as we’ve known it. Listen I have a son, I want the world to get better for him and his family. It seems only old angry people talk about the end of the world. Or depressed people talk about Armageddon, but I think there’s a chance they are offloading all their grief and childhood trauma onto Revelations and Christian teachings that may have been mis-interpreted. Of course, we’ve all seen the anger on TV as well as peaceful protests being hijacked by angry, righteous opposing, people - who are carrying guns. Guns. We have angry people taking to the streets with guns. In what universe is this a good sign? Then there’s angry driving. I recently relocated to Minneapolis and sometimes I’ll be in my car running an errand or getting coffee, and someone will be right on my ass, most likely cursing me and my IL license plate here in the land of 10,000 lakes where people are “Minnesota nice”. I ask you, what is scarier than nice people who are angry?

I believe the quote above; anger truly is Sad’s bodyguard. And I think we Americans are grieving a great loss. You name it, the loss of the American dream, whatever that dream is to you individually or as a member of your community. Loss of a dream is hard to face. I don’t mean the dream of 2.5 kids, a house and 2 cars, I mean the dream of irreplaceable freedom. I mean the dream of possibility. What always seemed possible was what could keep me going. I believed in what we hippies of the 60’s called Peace and Love for all, Non-violence, justice, and freedom now seems further out of reach than ever before, and true evil seems closer every day.

Now, do I think anger is always Sad’s bodyguard? Hell no. Sometimes anger is clean, pure and just the fuel needed to get shit done. It is certainly a higher vibration than depression, and I think clean anger is needed. But what is being called anger these days is not anger, no, it’s something so nefarious and soul destroying in its silence… the anger I see now is ancient, ancestral, resentment. It is not anger, because you can let most anger go. Resentment is the poison that killed our ancestors, but we’ve built up an immunity for. How do we build that immunity? Addiction, addiction to being right, intolerant, self-seeking, and greedy. Addiction to alcohol, drugs, compulsive spending, hoarding everything from money to garbage, anti-anxiety and anti-depressant drugs, uppers to stay in the game and sleep meds to stay out of the game. I feel as if going right to anger to bypass the sadness and grief is just frosting a bomb.

I get it. I really do. Feeling feelings is fecking hard.

Until I got sober, feelings were to be avoided at all cost. But unless I became willing to admit I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, and had to stop making shit up, I was going to be half alive.

Listen, drinking helped. Then it stopped working and that’s a hard day, and a really sad but supremely hopeful day. To admit, I just don’t know I think is the beginning of wisdom. That’s one of the pieces of armor we will need in the new world, wisdom.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change (anyone else)

The courage to change the things I can (me, right here right now)

And the wisdom to know the difference (to love and accept myself in the process so I can hear Divine Direction)

Here are some ideas for ‘priming the pump” for a good cry, which I think is a good start.

The book/film A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)

Call The Midwife (PBS)

The Black Stallion to remember that it just might be time for a new American dream.

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