THESE ARE THEIR STORIES OF TRIUMPH AND HOW THEY MANAGED ANGER

Torn shirt, swelling knuckles and bloody chest … my anger management story

SEYYED DE LLATA, Senior Designer

‘I am covered in blood, don’t be alarmed, it’s mostly not mine.’

I said that to my then-wife before she opened the door, around 3am, after a road rage incident with somebody, somewhere in northern Mexico, when I was twentysomething.

When she opened the door and the dim yellowish light of the street revealed me: torn shirt, swelling knuckles and bloody chest and my lower lip split into two. Her face was an image of horror, disbelief and shame.

‘I am OK, I just got into a fight. It wasn’t my fault, the guy punched me,’ I justified.

She drove me to a clinic and … on the way back, she asked: “Was the other man hurt?”

‘Yes’.

“What would have happened if you killed him?”

‘I don’t know … he was insulting me! He punched me first!’ I muttered.’

Where did that monster in me come from?

I come from a culture that glorifies violence, we literally have odes about acts of rage and revenge. From a very young age, you are pushed to it, being fast on aggression was received with praise. But that wasn’t the main source, no, the source was my old man. Life was a history of suffering for him and he never had anyone close to a father figure. Every time I got scolded or punished, sadness and anger built in me. I would find a place to take that anger out.

How I changed?

I have a son, and I saw him growing into an angry, cold and lonely young man. I could not help but think: ‘So many reasons to be happy, to be loved, to be successful and he is wasting it, wasting it by being angry.’ It was a mirror to my young self. I forgave my father years back.

Anger is a poison, don’t wait until you lose control and hurt others, accept it is a problem and seek help. The sooner the better.