Greetings Everyone, I’m Carl Vreeland, and this is the podcast “Close to the Bone.”

Before I start, I want to apologize for the lapse of time between episodes. As I mentioned in the last episode, I’m moving to another location, only it’s taking much longer than I anticipated. I still haven’t moved, and because of the powers that be, I’m unsure when it will all happen. So, I decided to unpack some boxes and record and publish one or two episodes in the meantime. That said, my studio will be a makeshift set-up at best. So, apologies in advance; the quality of the recording may be lacking a bit. Lastly, if you enjoy this podcast, please leave a Review or Rate it on Apple, it helps support the podcast, and please share it with others.

This is episode #33, entitled, Addicted to Anger.

He walked into the dinner party looking like a rooster; red in the face and prepped for a cock fight. It made sense, something happened between us the day before that set him off. He was probably stewing all night about it. I said something he found offensive. It doesn’t matter what I said because he finds just about everything offensive. Yes, everything’s a personal affront to him. Indeed, he has strong opinions which he keeps in a vice grip. You can’t budge him even if you tried, in which I usually don’t. Although I couldn’t resist the urge this time to counter his beliefs, which I regretted doing. I should know better. Most of time I listen objectively, and perhaps find some truth in his words now and again.

You see, my friend is a dry drunk; he has a big ego and low self-esteem. He’s only tolerable when you agree with him. And all is fine and dandy until you disagree with him. Then you turn into the target of his anger. Then there’s no talking to him, no matter how far from the truth his view of you or what you supposedly said or did might be. In the past I would have fallen victim to his attitude in circumstances like this one. I would have been sucked into his vacuum of heated anger toward my disagreeing with him, fighting him with all my might, defending myself to the death, so to speak. But now, I step back. I can see that he carries a strong distrust of people. Indeed the new me and improved me, if you will, even tried to sort things out with him, I made efforts to talk it out, in a rational and reasonable way. But as it turned out, he’s too far gone. Likely, he will never speak to me again.

But I don’t take it personally. This is because I’m now able to consider the source, and see the common denominator; he doesn’t speak to his former wife either, or his two kids, or his old boss, or the car mechanic we both go to in our neighborhood. I’m just another on the list. No doubt, he’s an angry guy, whose angry at the world. But I’m not angry at him though, not because I’m above him, and not because I’m taking the high road, no, it’s because I understand him. You see, back in the day, I was just like him. I would’ve carry a resentment around toward him heavier than the wooden cross Jesus carried to Calvary. It’s a weight I’m happy to no longer bear. I spent most of my adult life being angry, just like him. And it was a terrible way to live. Not only am I not angry, and not resentful toward him, but I don’t judge him either. I am instead very grateful, grateful that I no longer live that way. Indeed, for some reason or another, I was graced. I’m a lucky man.

No doubt, anger is a powerful drug. It can be just as addictive as heroin. I’ll never forget when my spiritual teacher and friend first said to me years ago, “Carl, you love being angry.” Of course, I rejected the notion. But overtime, as he continued to point it out