I woke up angry yesterday. Doesn't that sound rational? How are you? Fine, thank you for asking. Well, to be honest I woke a bit angry this morning. No. There was nothing so refined. Nothing fine in general. I woke full of wrath. Ticked. I wanted to stomp through the house. I wanted to yell. I wanted to cuss. I wanted to hit things. Anger owned me.
It had been building all morning until I nearly exploded. From the start I used my tools and little tricks to try to change tracks before my crazy train went off the rails. At 5 something I mumbled gratitude that I woke up since I forgot to set my alarm the night before. I set the alarm and went back to sleep. The truth was that I did indeed feel grateful that I had noticed that I hadn't set the alarm and wouldn't oversleep. The truth was also that I was upset that I had been waking every hour or so all night and didn't feel rested at all. I almost got up, but no, I went back to sleep.
And dreamed.
I woke up a couple of minutes before my alarm screamed at me, and I lay there heart racing, covered in sweat and breathing hard. I got up this time, a couple of minutes later about 30 seconds after I snoozed the alarm to silence instead of cutting it off. I walked to the closet and realized that I forgot to put the clothes I washed when I got home from work the previous day into the dryer. I needed them for work. The time bomb I had been struggling to defuse all night went off. It was one of those bombs where one small explosion sets off a chain reaction of ever increasing detonations until the big one occurs, bringing with it massive destruction.
I knew that I had to stop the reactions before things went from bad to worse. My wonderful wife would not react well to my rage. She would take it upon herself and ask me not to be mad at her. She would not believe for a second that not one particle of the fire burning in my heart was directed at her or had anything to do with her. She would take responsibility for two reasons. One, it's what she does. If I get upset about anything she either blames herself for upsetting me or for not helping me be not upset. Secondly, I had asked her to remind me to put the clothes in the dryer.
But I wasn't mad at her. I didn't blame her. It was totally my fault. I tried to calm myself. Again with the gratitude, I had time to dry the clothes before I had to leave for work. I would get a later start than I should, but it would be OK. I felt grateful to have remembered as soon as I did and that I got up with my alarm and not three snooze buttons in. I tried to be grateful that I only hurt a little and not a lot and might not have to take more than two Ibuprofen to start the day.
Still angry. I tried not to stomp and disturb Leah. I fought the urge to slam doors and display the turmoil within. I knew better. I knew how it would be perceived. I knew it would be a dangerous direction to allow myself to go. I knew I couldn't stay angry and do God's will for the day. I wanted to break things and hurt things. God is about restoration and healing. I reigned it in from a gallop to a trot, but wrath continued to carry me toward the morning's apocalypse. Then the alarm I had snoozed went off, and with it the next reaction in the chain.
I became angry with myself for not turning the alarm off and for having risked disturbing Leah. What if it had gone of while I was in the other room and couldn't turn it off quickly? The fact that I probably silenced it faster then it normally takes for me to sluggishly hit the snooze button again did nothing to slow the burning inside.
I wasn't moments away from out of control. I had been out of control all morning. I felt like I had as a child on my Uncle Jimmie's paint horse Ringo. The horse wanted to go back to the barn and kept taking off in that direction with me along for the ride. I fought him. I struggled with the bit. I made him slow. I turned him back the direction I wanted to go for a minute and fought against his desire to make another turn, which sooner or later, he was always able to do. No, Ringo didn't ever get to run straight back to the barn as he wished. I hindered him. But the idea that I was in control of that horse never occurred to me. I knew better. The same was true of my anger.
I had deluded myself into thinking I had some control because I slowed and hindered the direction and degree of what was going on, but like with Ringo I never had control. I tried to take control with gratitude. Didn't work. I tried to start my day over and let the morning I had already lived go. The time is now. The past is gone. I started over mad. That did it. As Ringo's antics came back to haunt me, I remembered how that ended.
My Uncle Jimmie had come out of his house and seen Ringo running away with me and nearly scraping me off his back by way of low hanging tree limbs. He ran to the lot we were in, caught Ringo by the bridle and stopped him. Ringo never tried to run another step with me that day. He was under control. It just wasn't mine.
I was trying to control myself all morning. But I don't have that power when the horse of wrath really wants to rage and run within me. God help me, I cried. Suddenly I felt the gallop slow to a trot. It wasn't up to me. Daddy can stop this beast. The trot slowed to a walk, and as it did I saw that what had stampeded it in the first place wasn't the laundry but the dream. I had a dream that had triggered my still not fully healed issues with the past. I had awoken feeling burnt and raw and beaten and angry. I never had a chance. Not on my own. But I'm not on my own,
We learn ways to help discipline ourselves. Stop and think before we speak and act. Play the movie through. Start the day over. Change attitude with gratitude. Stop self-pity by helping someone else. And more. They are good things and work when the thing we're trying to control is something we can control, when the beast within is being cooperative. But when it wants to go it's own way, there is nothing in our power that can do more than slightly hinder it. Let's not get so stuck in using the tools we have learned that we hold onto the problem too long. Be quick to turn it over to the One who has the power to stop the horse in its tracks so we can get off its back without getting hurt.
January 21, 2016.
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