You low corrosive lump of fecal horror, you maniac bastardly turd! I would rather drink stale urine from Norman Fowler’s arse-pit than remain one moment more in your defiling company.
You’re filth, you’re cack, you’re the ooze of… a burst boil. I abominate you, you cowering mound of corrupted slime. Your every utterance is like the slithering hiss of a fat maggot in the putrid guts of a decomposing rat. Your face is fouler than the unwiped inner ring of Satan’s rectum!
I may just post all the genius of Fry and Laurie here this next week. (Check out the narcissist send up of Luella De La Twee ). If you’re feeling like you need to vent, begin at “You low corrosive lump of fecal horror!”
And speaking of Satan’s unwiped rectum — have you met my ex-husband? Har har. This schtick got me thinking about anger (and anger’s better half — satire). When I think back on my infidelity nightmare, I’m surprised at how long it took me to get to anger. It’s definitely one of the stages of grief, but objectively, you’d think it would rear its head on the first day. It didn’t. Numbness did. Amazon chumpery appeared. Grief and sobbing and distress did. But anger came a bit later to the scene.
But, oh trust me, when it came it was a real force of nature.
When I read on infidelity boards, and some poor soul is reckoning with the aftermath of D-Day, I see it posted time and again “Get mad!” “Find your anger!” “Where are your balls?! Don’t be a fucking doormat!” As is often the case, the chump is wallowing around, trying to make sense of bullshit, doing the humiliating dance of “pick me!” and generally just spinning their wheels miserably.
I worry about people who don’t do anger. There’s a lot of stupid bullshit out there (HuffPo commentators — I’m talking to you) that says you should be above such low thoughts. That anger is corrosive and toxic and once you get angry you’ll stay that way, forever! Yes, your features will get stuck in a scowl, so don’t cross your eyes either. It could get very ugly indeed.
But that’s nonsense. Nothing should piss you off so much as the injustice and the affront of being cheated on. Of having your health risked, of being conspired against, of being humiliated. For all the ugly fallout of infidelity — the broken homes, the broken-hearted children, the STDs, the wasted years, the financial loss — if you can’t get mad about being cheated on, what does piss you off? Anything?
And yet so many chumps struggle with anger. At least at first. When I read a righteously pissed off chump, I don’t worry about them so much as the flounderers. I assume that the anger will propel that chump towards action, because anger is really good at that. Of course, there are some people that just stay stuck at inchoate rage without the moving forward actions — you see those poor souls stuck in reconciliation or pointless “revenge” — and what I would say to them is — Listen to your anger. It’s trying to tell you something. You want that rage to go away? ACT ON IT. No, I don’t mean gut the cheater like a fish (but you may fantasize about it). No, I mean PROTECT YOURSELF. Get away from this person who is hurting you.
Why is anger so hard for chumps? Well, first of all — you love the cheater. (Or did.) It’s scary to be angry at the people we love. Maybe they’ll leave us. Maybe they’ll let us down in other worse ways (are there other worse ways? Because people, I think you’ve arrived at worse here.) Second, to get good and righteously pissed off at injustice, you have to value yourself. You have to operate from the assumption that you deserve better than this. And that sounds so common sense, but if you’ve been mindfucked for a long time, gaslighted, made to feel only worthy as kibble production for the Great Narcissist, it may be hard to summon up the sense that hey, you MATTER. And third, anger is so hard because we get a lot of messages to not be angry. Especially women. No one will ever date you if you’re angry. Seriously, you’re unfuckable you shrieking harpy. Okay, not only is it unattractive, it’s Wrong! You should forgive and understand and choke down that shit sandwich and say thank you, this has been a learning experience. Don’t do anger, do enlightenment.
Well chumps, I would argue you don’t get to enlightenment, unless you do anger first. You can’t achieve “meh” until you’ve exhausted anger. Look at it like anger is your fuel towards “meh.” You’ll need all that anger to lawyer up, and rebuild and create a righteously awesome new life for yourself (I’ll show you!) — and then one day, you’ll arrive at acceptance (it’s a Tuesday). You won’t regret being pissed off once upon a time. You’ll respect yourself for it.
This column ran previously.