here's to my friend

notes from a better headspace

I am incredibly grateful for all the feedback I received on the back of my last post. So much love and support – thank you to my readers and friends who checked in with me to ensure I hadn't imploded in a brandy-fuelled burst of flames. I'm very well and in a much better headspace than the one I was in earlier this week, when I felt so cornered.

Now I'd like to reflect on the experience of having these types of emotional hiccups. Rather than trying to diffuse them, or ignore them, can we not agree that it is utterly normal and human to freak out occasionally? Our culture tells us that our true feelings must be contained, that rage is impolite and must be supressed and controlled, lest it disturbs or dismays others. This is the cornerstone upon which sanism rests: the policing of words and behaviour.

Who else was intrigued and impressed by the haka that burst out in the New Zealand parliament a few days ago?

This expressive demonstration of fury and protest gave voice to the righteous emotions that are felt over the injustice of colonialism – so much more vividly than a straightlaced, logical speech would have done. I'm reminded again by the wisdom of a friend who once pointed out that “feelings are facts.” Our emotions give us valid and valuable information with which to work. And again: this brilliant quote from Julia Cameron's classic book The Artist's Way:

Anger is our friend. Not a nice friend. Not a gentle friend. But a very, very loyal friend. It will always tell us when we have been betrayed. It will always tell us when we have betrayed ourselves. It will always tell us that it is time to act in our own best interests.

I'm remembering now a book that was read to me as a small child. It belonged in a series that my mother used when she was a Sunday school teacher (or CCD as it was called: Catholic Catechism and Doctrine.) In the story, the child narrator travels to another world – one in which there are no rules. In this world, all the other children are mean and I remember particularly that in the plot, a child's bike gets stolen but there is no redress. No rules! Anything goes! People are cruel monsters who will eat each other alive if they are not contained and punished. I remember too how much this story frightened and disturbed me. I don't remember much more than this, but I can only assume that the solution offered to this terrible dystopia was to Obey God's Laws. It was clearly an illustration for the Ten Commandments. Thou shalt not.

Why am I thinking of this story now? Well, it was all about control. Keeping the terrible troublemaking children under control. Anger is a troublemaking emotion. It disrupts and upends. It challenges and questions. And often, it is labelled as mad. Sectioned. Locked away.

I know I am generalising. But I can testify from my own experience that when one is sectioned, expressions of anger are labelled symptoms, and interpreted as the inability to maintain self-control. The only way out of a section is to calm down, stay quiet and follow the rules. Take the meds whether you want to or not. Keep your mouth shut and bite back that protest at your treatment. Be a good girl! Don't worry, be happy!

My daughter and I have a memory we sometimes share and laugh about together. Suffice to say it involved a massive argument that dissolved into a shouting match and a food fight using handfuls of mashed potato as missiles. Utterly undisciplined, ridiculously childish, in thrall to our respective angers in the heat of the moment. Personally I think it is one of the better moments of parenting that I managed. Anger is uncomfortable, true. And messy. But when it is swallowed back, unexpressed, it turns inward, it festers and grows, and the damage goes untold.

So I'm glad that I wrote my upset, angry post a few nights back. I'm glad I got it off my chest, and expressed my truth. I'm glad too that I shared it with others, instead of stewing in it on my own. Here's to anger, my friend.