can you say pink slip?

St. Helens

Hello. My name is Matt and I’m a believer who struggles with anger.

I’m not talking about a little burn-up here and there. While it really takes alot to get me irritated, when I finally get set off, it’s like a supernova in my chest. And the really bad thing is, I rarely let it out. Oh sure, I might let my sarcasm fly off the handle, but mostly I get really quiet and seethe internally. Not only is this not emotionally healthy, I’m sure it sends my blood pressure through the roof.

I did let it out once and almost strangled a kid. I was in sixth grade. Normally, the class bully (we’ll call him Cletus–it’s my story, get off me) was up to his usual antics on the way back to our classroom from lunch. The poor kid he normally picked on was on vacation. And dear Cletus chose this particular day to lay his filthy paws on me.

Now, back then, I was a scrawny kid. I didn’t mess with nobody and was generally left alone. But Cletus really got to me. I pretty much despised everything about the kid. To call him obnoxious would be an insult to obnoxious people (but they’d deserve it!). What was worse, his parents thought of him as their precious snowflake-angel who brought happiness and lollipops wherever he went. And the kid was mean.

Back to the hallway. Cletus decides to start shoving me around, flicking my ear, etc. I was just doing my best to get away; I wasn’t the kind of kid to stand up for myself in those days. But this was a new day. I don’t even remember what he said or did that made me snap, but I. Freakin. Lost it.

My hands went right for his throat and I throttled him like it was my only purpose in life, what I was born to do. I was nuts. Friends were trying to pull me off because Cletus’ face was cycling the rainbow and there wasn’t a teacher in sight. Not only was I strangling him, I was taking him from one side of the hall to the other, slamming his head into the walls. I remember the veins in his temple were visibly pulsing.

I can’t remember how or why I let go. It was like I got switched off just as quickly as I was set off. A teacher happened by about that time and hauled us off to the principal’s office, Cletus’ neck blood red except where my hands had left their outline in bruises. Cletus had a record as long as…well… And I was a good kid who made the grades and only had one other mark on my record for something similar back in elementary school with another fledgling Cletus. And even though I about killed the guy, I got off scot free. Who is this Scott anyway? Is he free? Somewhere?

I can’t remember what our little snowflake received. He didn’t mess with me anymore. I haven’t lost control like that since, but there were a couple near misses as the years rolled by. Cletus would later go on to graduate high school and fade into obscurity that only a small, southern town can offer.

To use a Watermark-ism, I still struggle with rage issues. I bury them because I’m afraid if I give just an inch I’ll turn Dr. Jeckel on someone else, either with my words or my actions. I feel like a slave to my anger sometimes. And that’s one of the main reasons I’m in Celebrate Recovery at Watermark. If your church is fortunate enough to have this program, I’d highly recommend it. It’s for any “hurts, habits, or hang ups.” You don’t have to be an alcoholic or addict to take advantage of what it offers, and don’t kid yourself that your struggles don’t compare. We’re all slaves to our own private struggles.

Most of our staff have been through the entire program which takes a little over a year. That’s how highly this body believes in its purpose. I love this particular fact because I believe it shows that, as leaders, we walk what we talk and that we’re committed to making fully devoted followers of Christ…not just setting up a “Salvation Station” operation. But that’s another post for another time.

I’ll write more as my journey through CR continues.