When my therapist told me I had anger issues, everyone was surprised but me. “But I’ve never seen you angry.” “You’re the nicest person I know!” They weren’t wrong, just fooled. Deep down, I’d always felt angry about some of the hands life had dealt me, like losing my brother so young or just not being good enough. In many ways, it was a natural response to feeling wronged, but that wasn’t how I saw it. My anger scared me. I was frightened of showing the world its ugly face. So I masked it, by smirking, blushing, laughing, making a joke, or changing the subject. As people’s responses will tell you, I was successful. My anger was hidden, but not gone.
My therapist was the first person to explain to me that anger happens whether you like it or not — it’s an everyday occurrence. Your coffee goes cold. You miss the bus. You’re misunderstood. Someone’s in your space. Someone’s disturbing your peace. When these things happen, however subtle, a boundary defence is triggered. People often say, “I’m not angry, I’m annoyed” or “I’m not angry, I’m disappointed,” but these are merely attempts to rebrand anger and make it socially acceptable. Why? Because anger exposes the chest-beating, faeces-flinging monkey in us all. The one who pounces at any perceived slight, thinks only they should rule the jungle, and doesn’t want to share a single banana. Anger is the body’s hardwired fight-or-flight response kicking into action so you can come out on top and survive.
As I’ve said before, if you don’t feel your feelings, they don’t simply disappear. While anger is typically a proportionate reaction to what’s happening, rage is when we react to everything all at once. A minor transgression becomes an enormous insult, or a foolish blunder turns into a great injustice. I used to try my hardest never to be angry at anyone, thinking it was bad, aggressive, or immature. All it did was make me bitter – not in my words or behaviour, but internally. I would endlessly ruminate on other peoples’ rudeness, carelessness, and lack of consideration. “How dare they do that?” I’d think. “After I’ve tried so hard to be nice.” I’d obsess over people’s bad behaviour without ever saying a word, brewing rage as they continued unawares. “Don’t they know how they’re making me feel?” I’d think. Well, how could they?
It took me a while to learn how to express my anger, but the first step was to acknowledge it. I had to own my reaction, not make it about somebody else. Below are just some of the things I found useful, whether by managing the anger directly or channelling it into something else.
Journaling
To begin with, simply name it. Admitting you’re angry, even to yourself, can be enough to unblock the dam before it blows. Next, write why. Usually when we’re angry, this is easy. Problem is, when we say it, we might say something we regret. Our anger may slip into rage as we leap from one issue to the next. Journaling is a safe place to think aloud before anyone has to hear. It can help you prepare for difficult conversations by separating what you feel like saying from what you want to. With angry journalling, you can get creative. Want to write it in big capital letters? Go for it. Want to tear the page up after? Why not!
Sport
I hated sport as a kid. Now, I’m convinced it’s because I didn’t like getting angry. The two seem to go hand-in-hand. In any sport, you have to fight to win — nice guys finish last, as the saying goes. But unless you’re a sports superstar, a loss shouldn’t ruin your life. In this way, sport can feel like a safe environment to feel anger and let it go. Now, I really don’t like losing. It gets me down. But five, ten minutes later? I’ll be laughing, vowing to get them next time. The same goes for video games. Why not free the beast in a fun way? But remember: when it stops being fun, stop. If you want to learn more about how exercise can help with anger, you can find some helpful articles online.
Music
Music can help you process your emotions and anger is responsible for a lot of good tunes. Listening to them has always helped me to channel and vent my anger, as if the singer was feeling my feelings for me. Angry songs seem to sanction anger, making it palatable, so I stop resisting and simply feel it. Why not make an angry playlist to have on standby for your next bad day?
Pillow Talk
Yes, I’ve screamed into pillows. I’ve even had arguments with pillows. I’ve said to pillows things I wished I’d said to someone else, whether that’s because the moment was gone or the person was. Saying it out loud helped me find my anger’s rhythm and experiment with ways of articulating it. In many ways, it was the step after journaling and before conversation. Disclaimer: it helps to be in a remote space where no one can hear!
Come Back to It
Like a lot of emotions, anger can make matters feel like they need to be resolved urgently. The popular term ‘red mist’ describes how in intense moments of anger, the amygdala can override our ability to regulate behaviour, effectively blinding us. This is why people say to countdown from 10 or walk away when angry. But anger happens for a reason, and it will continue to happen until we understand why. Often, people don’t want to bring things back up in case it creates another argument, but I’d argue the opposite: if you don’t bring it back up, you are destined to repeat the argument. Don’t be afraid to come back to a conversation. With a clear head, think about what you want to say. Write it down, if needed. Keep it brief. “I just wanted to say, the other day when you did X, I felt angry.” Pretend it didn’t happen and, chances are, it will happen again.
To this day, I still worry that at some point I’ll really lose my temper, but I’m learning to see that as a positive. It’s okay if you never explode, so long as you learn how to release the pressure.
