Anger

Anger is something I don’t do well. When I get angry, one of two things happens. I get emotional and cry, and no one takes me seriously; or I swallow it, and no one even knows I’m mad, and I wallow in it for days. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because later this week I will have to see someone who I used to be very angry with, for the first time since they hurt me. I’m very nervous about how I am going to react.

I learned a lot of my non-coping strategies from the culture of the LDS church; as a woman, but especially as a Mormon woman, I’ve been taught my whole life to avoid conflict, to be nice, to deffer to authority especially when I disagree, and to swallow my negative emotions. In writing this post I looked up as many references to anger by general authorities as I could find. Unsurprisingly, they were all either about how we need to choose not to be angry, or warnings about the evils of anger. For example:

“Anger is the mother of a whole brood of evil actions” (Gordon B. Hinckley, 2007)

“If we desire to have a proper spirit with us at all times, we must choose to refrain from becoming angry” (Thomas S. Monson, 2009)

I absolutely agree that anger can be damaging, and in many instances, dangerous. However, I feel that simply telling people that anger is bad and they should try not to feel it is not the answer. Emotions happen. They are a reality. Even when we are at our best, they run away with us. What we should be teaching people is that Anger is part of the human experience, and giving them tools to cope with it when it does inevitably come up.

Besides, anger can be positive when it can be channeled in to productive directions. For example, my neighbor with a special-needs child has been able to turn her anger at a system that disadvantages her child in to advocacy for many families in similar situations. It can be a great source of motivation for change.

What do you do when you get angry? Have you ever turned the experience in to a positive?

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Introducing our Heavenly Mother’s Day Series

CW: Suicidal thoughts

I moved to Oakland five years ago. One of my first outings in the Bay Area was a gathering at Carol Lynn Pearson’s house where she gave each of us copies of her play, Mother Wove the Morning. It sat on my shelf for months because I didn’t want to open up Heavenly Mother-less wound I had.

When I finally read it, half a year later, I discovered that I was right in that it was an intense experience. I loved reading it and yet I ached. I wanted a relationship with Heavenly Mother, but I didn’t know how. Unfortunately the bigger question for me was “why.” Why should I have a relationship with Her?

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Comfort Box: The 72 Hour Kit that will save you from becoming a zombie.

 

readyforzombies

Am I prepared? Anytime I am watching a zombie apocalypse roll forth on television I question if my emergency preparedness supplies are sufficient. Would I survive or become a zombie? The ward emergency preparedness guy hides from me the week after an especially violent episode of The Walking Dead. To be fair, he has already helpfully referred me to the CDC guide to surviving zombies.

I don’t have any life experience in surviving disasters of the natural or zombie variety, but another kind of disaster rolls through my life routinely. Emotional earthquakes, fire, tsunami, tornado, or sometimes (on a slow news day) a muddy puddle are enough to knock me out. I am regularly afflicted with unwanted feelings of depression, anger, loneliness, betrayal, sadness, boredom, jealousy, or confusion.  Some days I have no idea what I am feeling. I only know that bad stuff happens and keeps happening. Too often the tornado sets me down in my own emotional zombie apocalypse.

When faced with emotional disaster, my first response is to become a zombie. I was raised in a home without healthy models of how to express and positively cope with challenging emotions. My inclination is to eat my feelings while numbing out on a binge read or a mindless Facebook game. As I compare my response to family traditions of alcoholism, drug addiction, violence, or child abuse; being an emotional zombie doesn’t seem so bad. Unfortunately, the zombie life fails to bring me lasting relief and harms my health through impaired sleep and weight gain. The unwanted feelings remain and eventually demand attention. These are the times when I turn to my emotional 72 Hour Kit: The Comfort Box.

How prepared are you for the next emotional tsunami? Will you become a zombie? Read on to learn how you can get your very own Comfort Box!

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The Church is Pro-Choice

Note: this post mentions rape, incest, abortion, stillbirth, death of infants, etc. If those topics are going to be triggering, please honor your health and pass on reading.

A few months ago, we were discussing the need for modern-day prophets in Sunday School. One woman raised her hand and said that she was grateful for modern-day revelation because of issues like abortion. I fought my urge to exclaim, “Yes! Isn’t it great that the Church is pro-choice?!” because it would really derail the lesson, so I’m going to say it here.

Isn’t it great that the Church is pro-choice?!

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A Moving Mormon Performance

I could not sleep. It was as though it was midday and had the energy of a racehorse about to take flight. empty houseBut it was really 2 AM, and I had been awake since 1AM. I had fallen asleep in utter exhaustion around 11PM, but woke at 1 …and there I remained, twitching.

 

The ghosts of the day were haunting me and tears filled my eyes. But I withheld any sound, silently weeping, trying to not wake my husband.

 

The day before had been traumatic. We had packed to move, and left our house in a state. It wasn’t untidy, but I had not the time to make all of the runs to the Salvation Army on that day, nor had I the time in the preceding days to list all that I had hoped on eBay. As a result, clusters of items I deemed valuable were in boxes, or loosely stacked piles, awaiting to be unceremoniously bagged and taken to the dump.

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Exposed

I am an introvert. I get my energy from being by myself and being undisturbed. Being at large parties or being around people I don’t know, emotionally and physically overwhelms me, makes me anxious, and exhausts me. Don’t get me wrong. I love being around a large group of my good, close (“good” and “close” being the qualifiers, here) friends that I already know and being in small personal gatherings to meet new friends and people. I love having great conversations and [attempting] to be funny and getting to know people on a small, intimate basis. However, it’s still physically draining for me to do. I need to go back home and recuperate so I can prepare myself for another day of interacting with people.

This party won't last all day for me.... So many people!

This party won’t last all day for me…. So many people!

I am also extremely shy around others that I don’t know. This often hinders me. When I intern, volunteer, or work somewhere, it’s hard for me to make friends with colleagues and coworkers. It’s difficult for me to open up when I’m thrust into a group of people I’m suddenly forced to interact with frequently. It stresses me out, even. Sadly enough, even here on the blog my introversion prohibits me from reaching out and forming new relationships. I’m afraid to speak out or chime in. I worry I’ll say the wrong thing. I’ll worry I have to keep up with conversations I’m not qualified to have. I’m afraid to open up and make myself vulnerable. It’s best if I stay in my quiet little corner until I’m able to warm up and open up. Introverts take time, but I am trying to change and speed up the process.

Feelings of exposure and vulnerability are a gift for some people, but a great struggle for me. A frequent complaint of my friends is the fact that I will actively and truly listen to them about their life and their problems and solve all of their life’s worries, but I rarely talk to them about my life and my problems.

“I feel like I’m talking too much,” a friend will say. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh, nothing. My life’s not as interesting as yours!” And I’ll sneakily bring the conversation back to the life and goings-on of my friend.

I tend to be more of a listener and observer. It’s safe that way. I’m privy to information without giving up information myself. I get to listen and help with problems and practice my skills of empathy. I get to learn about others and hear about their lives. I love being close to my friends and other people in that way. But I’m now realizing that this is a two-way street. I already feel I’m an excellent listener. Now I need to work on being more vulnerable. More exposed.

It’s hard. I naturally keep things to myself. When people speak ask my opinion of feminism, or Mormonism, or certain politics, I’ll give my opinion–– strongly. But only on a superficial level. I never bring in my personal experiences or connections with the topics at hand. When people ask about my family life or what I’m thinking about, I’ll give generic answers. No one wants to hear what I think, right? But people always want others to listen to what they think, that’s for sure.

But even in my prayers to Heavenly Father, I’m extremely generic. I go through the motions, but I can’t even be open to the one person I’m supposed to open with. Even communicating with God is a struggle for me, which is probably why I rarely say prayers.

Balance is possible, I know. And I also know that my friends truly do want to know what’s going in my life. People trying to be my friend and get to know me also want to hear about my thoughts and myself. My successes and failures, my wins and losses. It’s how we bond with one another. It’s how we help each other and “bear one another’s burdens” and become more Christlike.

So I’m slowly coming out of my introverted woodwork. I’ll always be shy and introverted, there’s no doubt about that. It’ll always be difficult for me to talk about myself and open up. But I need to open up and let others into my life. I need to be exposed. There’s no human connection more powerful than intimacy and vulnerability. And I want to be connected. I want to expand. I don’t want to be safe anymore.

Wish me luck.

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