What to do with Anger...

"But I don't know what to do with my anger. What do you do with your anger?"

Oh God. One of the benefits of not having any children is that I never experience shiny, earnest little faces looking up at me and asking me questions on topics about which I do not have the foggiest. (I have been quite wary of children ever since my nephew patiently explained to me how a combustion engine worked. I think he was 6 at the time).

But now I am sitting opposite a young woman who has recently started coming to local Support Group meetings, and is labouring under the delusion that I have all the answers.

Which of course I don't.

I could say "oh - I never get angry any more!"
But that would be a lie.
So I sit there and ponder very seriously what I "do" with my anger.

Then I tell her I talk about it (to people I feel safe with). And I write about it. And that sometimes (but regrettably not often enough...) I pray about it. We talk about the benefits of walking and swimming and yoga; and about going to lots and lots of meetings. And we talk about how anger can be expressed safely and appropriately ie without shouting, swearing, slapping people, or smashing large items of unattractive crockery one lugged all the way back from Morocco in 1989 (this was pre-recovery, you understand....).

And she tells me all about the people she is very very angry with (mainly her ex-boyfriend), and I sit and listen. Calmly. Which is pretty much how I do most things these days.

But for a few minutes I drift into a reverie and muse upon how the "old me" would have responded to the behaviour of Line Manager, Spiteful Manager, and their little band of bullying cronies. "Robustly," I think I can safely say.

Mmmmmm. Yes. Robustly.

But these days I am a sober-minded public sector employee!

So I do not chuck the hole punch at Line Manager's head; twist Spiteful Manager's tie firmly until I hear a pleasing choking sound; or hang a sign above Whispering Corner saying "Here Be C***s". No, no, no ! Because this would be inadvisable and highly imprudent. Instead I do my best, on a daily basis, to conduct myself as professionally, politely and discreetly as I can. Which - given what has happened - is pretty miraculous, when I think of it. Perhaps those prayers are working after all....

I imagine those who contributed to the scenarios of the past year think platitudinously "it's all water under the bridge", "let bygones be bygones" and "let sleeping dogs lie" . Because they want to forget about it. So it's best to tell themselves that Katharine is getting over it - that she isn't angry any more.

But they are wrong.
I am.
It's just that I am very good at hiding it.