Making Space for Anger

I’ve spent the last thirty minutes working my way through a package of beef jerky, staring at a blank document, trying to come up with something to write about.

Did anything interesting happen in the last few weeks of my life? Well, yes, but I don’t really want to put any of those things on the Internet. Do I feel really strongly about anything right now? Again, yes, but I feel strongly about everything. I only operate in extremes. Well, what am I feeling right now?

I’m angry. I’m frustrated. That’s all I’ve got. I’m not going to explain why; I’ll let you use your imagination. But my problem is that within college, my social sphere, and general society, I can’t find space for this resentment. I see a lot of space for sadness, which is important; there’s more than enough sadness in the world, and we need to make space for that. But what do I do with my anger? Where’s the place for that?

I never feel guilty for being sad. Though I’m sure this is not a universal experience, and that many feel guilty for feeling sad, I don’t feel bad for sleeping more than usual or eating less or whatever it is that I do when I’m sad. When I’m angry, though, everything feels like a guilt trip.

“Y’know, anger is a secondary emotion,” someone once told me. “It means you’re covering something up, like fear or pain. You’re not angry; you’re really just hurt.” Maybe they were right. But what is that saying to those who are angry?

There’s a space for sadness or fear here, but not anger. That’s not what you’re feeling. It’s not real. That’s what I hear.

I think that growing awareness about mental health and the necessity of self-care have made us all a lot more comfortable with the idea of sadness. Don’t get me wrong; I think this is incredibly important. Sadness is a raw, human emotion that we need to be comfortable with, in ourselves and in others.

I don’t think we’ve made the same steps with the idea of anger. Considering that it is also a raw human emotion, and an integral part of grieving, I think it’s time we do. Someone being angry doesn’t mean they have anger issues. It doesn’t mean they’re a bad person. But I don’t think you can approach people who are angry in the same way that you can approach people who are sad. When I’m sad, I like being around people in silence. I like being asked if I need anything. I like “I love you!” texts. When I’m frustrated or angry, though, that “support” feels like it’s smothering me. It feels like because people are not comfortable around anger, I just need to magically stop being angry.

I’m not saying that anger justifies rudeness, or anything like that. But I think we need to accept that anger is a part of being human (especially now, when there’s so much to be angry about), and get comfortable with it, especially in other people.