Lately I’ve gotten angrier more often. I’ve been actively managing my anger for decades, so this has been remarkable.
I decided not to dwell in anger over a decade ago. By that I mean not buying into the idea that anger is appropriate other than as an indicator of a personal miscalibration. That was arguably the best thing I ever did for myself.
Nowadays anger management is like emotional diarrhea for me. It’s that dreadful, and I want the same amount of privacy, for the same reasons.
I don’t judge or hate myself for having the process. It was the proverbial “something I ate,” expanded here to include “that which was shoved down my throat.” It’s six of one, half a dozen of the other. Bottom line, it’s mine to deal with. And this, too, shall pass.