Finding Peace with the Angry Eight-Year-Old

When I was eight years old my parents separated and eventually divorced.

I dealt with it like and 8-year-old would, I pushed the anger at my parents deep down inside.

I hid how angry I was–with random acts of rage and frustration–from everyone.

It wasn’t until I was older that I began to understand my anger, but I’d never truly had it under control, it would just be pushed down and ignored until it blew.

When it blew, watch out.

The first time my then girlfriend, and now wife, saw it for the first time, she didn’t no how to respond, it scared her, not because the anger was directed at her, but because she didn’t know how someone who seemed so calm could explode in that manner.

The anger at my parents for how they acted towards us after they separated didn’t help things. I was only eight and only knew my dad was kissing some other woman and my mom another man, nothing was ever explained to me.

When my son turned eight and my wife and I were still together, I felt like I’d conquered a childhood demon, a minor one, but still a demon.

Their divorce was a catalyst in my life. One of those moments where life changed, and I changed.

Before eight-years-old, I stood up to people who’d bullied my sisters and got good grades, afterward I was the one bullied and I no longer cared about my grades. Both of these had an effect on the relationship I had with my parents, something which I don’t think they understood then, though I believe my mom understands now.

It’s been 30 years since then, and I’m going through another catalyst, this time a different better one.

After pushing my anger down, I’ve begun to deal with the eight-year-old I was, and we’ve been talking about how things can move forward with who we are, and not be the angry little boy.

This began with TM.

My break earlier this year was 30 years in the making and though I cried more than I screamed on that day, I’ve come to understand myself better with TM. I’ve learned that my parents didn’t know what the hell they were doing and that though they were young and didn’t seem to care about me at eight, they do now.

With TM I’ve learned that the angry eight-year-old is part of who I am, and that journey has come to an end in the calmness I feel with TM.

I know that I can’t get back the 30 years I lost to anger, but I can live in peace with the person I am now, and I have Transcendental Meditation to thank for that.

I’m a better person than I was five months ago when I wanted to kill myself, and I know that my life is finally hit another road, which I’m following faithfully, keeping my head on the things I want to accomplish in my life and that, in the end Peace is better than being an angry eight-year-old.


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