In last week’s blog post I wrote about the consequences of stuffing anger.  This week I want to address the times when you go even further to avoid your anger by not only stuffing its expression, but denying any experience of it as well.  Just because you’re not aware of it, does not mean you’re not angry.  In fact, the anger that you’re unaware of tends to do the most damage, both in relationships, but even more importantly to your own personal power.

When we’re little we tend to express our anger in gross motor movements (hitting, kicking, running away) and outbursts.  By age five we’re taught that such behaviors are unacceptable.  We’re either punished or we may have affection or attention withdrawn.  Young girls, especially, learn to “be nice.”  Over time, in order to be “civil” adults, we further curtail our negative emotions, sometimes by convincing ourselves that we’re not angry, even when we are.  Rarely can strong anger be completely suppressed, and so it leaks out.  These inadvertent expressions tend to be indirect, or what is often referred to as passive aggressiveness.  This can lead to frustrating mixed messages that take a toll on relationships, such as  when our words insist we aren’t upset but our behavior clearly shows we are.  Freud used the analogy of how smoke that is blocked from going up the chimney of a stove will leak out the door, through the grate, and end up choking everyone in the room.

If we’re not aware of it, than how can we know when we have hidden anger?  Here’s where the leaks can give us some clues.  Hidden anger often takes the form of these behaviors, including:  procrastination in completing imposed tasks, over-politeness or constant cheerfulness, frequent sighing, smiling while hurting, sleep problems, boredom or apathy, excessive tiredness, grinding your teeth, and extended periods of feeling down or chronic depression.  It’s easier to recognize and accept our anger when we let go of the feeling that anger needs to be justified.  There is no way to make yourself feel the way you “should” feel and no rules as to what is ok or not ok to be angry about.   At the same time, in order to own our anger, we must take responsibility for it.  No matter what someone else did to trigger it, the anger is yours.

Quite often for someone with depression, therapy starts with the expression of how tired they are, how many headaches and body aches they have, and how they believe that nothing they do or feel matters.  In time, they begin to share about their experience of being hurt by others or victimized in some way, but were too young, powerless, or scared to do anything about it.  As we explore their feelings around it, giving them permission and a safe place to see things from different perspectives, signs of anger often begin to emerge.  Frightening at first, they begin to find the anger hidden deep inside or turned against themselves in the form of self-defeating thoughts or behavior.  It can be wonderful to watch people become motivated and empowered, the depression slowly lifting in direct proportion to the anger released, like steam out of a kettle, freeing up space and energy.

Hidden anger is worth finding.  While it may be uncomfortable or cause a brief rift in a relationship, it is our reality.  No matter how hard we try to hide it, it will still be there.  The cost to hiding our anger is often at our own expense, losing our own power, energy, and passion in order to stay comfortable.  We betray ourselves and compromise our authenticity.  So be a brave inner explorer.  Hunt your anger and find your power, and you just may find some happiness along the way!

Although it’s a really common emotional experience, anger is hard to talk about and even more difficult to express well when you’re feeling it.   As a result, anger has gotten a bad reputation, as far as the hierarchy of preferred feelings is concerned.  There’s a tendency to judge anger as a more primitive state or that being angry implies a lack of maturity or self control.  In this week’s post I want to make a case for befriending your anger, as it can be a useful signal for when something’s wrong and can supply the energy needed for making a change.

The problem with anger is usually not the anger, but the way we express it.  Often people wait until their anger’s built up and then explode, confusing the message with the delivery.  By the time stuffed anger emerges we’re at the point of losing our rational thinking and acting impulsively.  The most common question I get when someone has problems around anger is how to not be angry.  They want tools to learn how to avoid being angry at all.   I try to reframe the issue as one of learning how to engage in self care, not self denial.  Most commonly, we become angry when we feel our rights have been violated in some way or that we’re being treated unfairly.  In this way, anger serves a really important role in alerting us to when we might need self protection or to be understood.  If we try to stop being angry, we ignore an important mechanism for self care.  So instead of trying to rid ourselves of anger, it’s helpful to focus on what it may be telling us, so we can advocate for ourselves and learn how to ask for what we need before we reach a state of being accusing or demanding.

Anger occurs in a range of intensity, from annoyance on the low end, to rage on the high end.  Try to notice your first hints of anger; is it irritation, sarcasm, or a physical sign of tension?  Then try to assess the root of when it began.  Be careful not to be judgmental, keep a scientific approach of observation.  Generally I’ve noticed three basic categories of triggers that often underlie our anger.  One is a sense of powerlessness or helplessness, such as being unable to have control over our situation, feeling a lack of support, or feeling victimized by other’s perceptions or misunderstanding.  It’s common to get angry when our boundaries are being disrespected or ignored.  A second trigger is shame or self-doubt in situations where you feel emotionally unsafe, perhaps feeling humiliated, inadequate, or a feeling that you’re not good enough.  And finally, rejection or abandonment can trigger anger, when we feel shut out or ignored by someone , and need to protect ourselves from the pain of the loss of love or understanding we desire.

Once you think you’ve found the source of your anger, take a deep breath.  Sometimes, just identifying what the trigger is can be soothing.  Or sometimes it can be energizing.  It may alert you to a situation that needed clarity and give you justification for your sense that something is wrong.  In either case, taking a little time to think, and breathe, is usually helpful.  It’s easy to fall into the trap of blaming others or jumping to conclusions, especially about intention.  Did the other person mean to hurt you or make you angry, or is it just a difference or miscommunication that needs attending to?  Usually, because our experience is so personal, it’s easy to assume that someone is attacking us in a personal way.  Talking to a trusted friend or even journaling about our feeling can be really helpful.  We can vent, release our frustration, and often an answer to what we need becomes clear.

The final step to making friends with anger is to develop a plan.  I encourage people to use the energy of the anger to your benefit.  It can motivate you to start something new, take an action, or feel more powerful or in control.  The main thing, however, is to be in relationship with your anger, rather than at its mercy.  Like a good friend, listen to it, sympathize with it, give it some reasonable feedback along with loving support.   Trust it, respect it, and let it guide you to what you need.  After all, a friend in need is a friend indeed.

Next week, a post about hidden anger.

I was e-mailing back and forth with my friend about a family situation I was really worried about.  She was so kind to offer her support and really understood my concerns (thanks Deborah). At the end of her last e-mail she added what to her was just a quick afterthought, but to me was a genuinely profound observation.  “PS,” she wrote, “Please hold space for the possibility that things could be different (better).”

In reading her suggestion, it quickly became clear to me how much I was living in my fears.  Every thought I had about the family situation was a potential negative.  I was so single mindedly trying to prepare myself and my loved one for the worst, that it never even occurred to me that there actually was the possibility of a positive outcome.  Or even a not-so-bad outcome.  As soon as I cleared out space for something better amid the layers of my fears, I immediately felt relief.

It’s so natural for us to worry, especially about people we love and situations we have little control over.  But how much extra suffering do we add when we rule out the possibilities for things to work out differently than we fear?  And how much do our expectations affect our outcomes?  If I am only thinking about the negative, besides being painful, I might miss out on opportunities to influence things to be better.  Or I might fail to notice the ways that things actually ARE better than expected.  By anticipating the possibilities of a broad array of outcomes, we can balance our fears with our hopes.  We can also motivate ourselves to change.  Without the possibility that things could be different, why would we put in any effort?  By visualizing and anticipating how life could be, we create a template and a pathway to our goals.

The same can be true of holding only positive possibilities.  In my line of work, we might refer to this as denial.  When working with people in a state of denial, they either don’t let themselves think about the potential for a bad consequence to their behavior (such as getting pulled over after having a few drinks) or prepare for a possible change in their good fortune (like the fact that their house value won’t go up forever).  It can be frustrating to be partners with people like this, as their Pollyanna attitude often creates a dynamic where the other person has to be the worrier or holder of the bad news.

Like so much in life, balance is key.  Notice your tendencies.  Are you more likely to be blinded by your fears or caught unprepared for what others seem to anticipate?  We may have different tendencies for different types of situations.  We might be overly burdened with our worry for our child’s academic performance, yet in denial about our own health risks.  To help you evaluate if your expectations are in balance, notice any patterns in the feedback you get from others.  When we hold one end of the continuum, it’s likely someone else is holding the other.  Do teachers tell you not to worry so much about your children’s grades, while your husband repeatedly reminds you about seeing the doctor?

As my friend suggests, it’s best to create some space for a variety of outcomes, not just the ones you fear or fantasize.   When you do, not only will your expectations be more balanced, but so will your attention.  It can feel a lot better and even motivate you to take action if you consider all the possible outcomes of your situation. And if you’re like me, you’ll probably be pleasantly surprised by some hope and potential happiness when you make the space to find it.

The other night I drove two hours to drop my husband and daughter at the airport.  They’re off to look at a college, as the time has come to decide where she’ll go.  On the way home, listening to the radio, a song came on that reminded me of my father.  Suddenly, I began to cry.  Not just a tear rolling down my cheek, but the full-on, need a box of tissues, making sounds that were not human, kind of cry.  It’s been an emotional time of life for me, with joys, losses, and a lot of changes.  I hadn’t realized how much I’d been holding in until I let it all out.  Luckily, by the time I pulled in to the garage to greet my other daughter, I felt renewed (although I’m sure I looked run over).  The experience reminded me that while crying is a natural and biological response to distress that really helps, it seems so hard to do.  Even in therapy, it’s surprising how often my clients hold back their tears, dabbing at their faces, apologizing, needing my permission and strong encouragement to weep.

In graduate school they teach therapists that you shouldn’t rush to hand your client a tissue when the tears come, The reason behind this is that it may send the message that it’s not okay to cry, or that you can’thandle the pain, (Luckily after watching people struggle with runny nises and wet hands, I’ve learned other ways to convey acceptance).

 This trained attention to the subtle messages in response to tears, however, speaks to a cultural discomfort that makes it difficult to cry, especially in front of others.  Somehow we’ve associated shedding tears as a sign of weakness or a lack of control.  Unfortunately, by creating such barriers, we miss out on a lot of the benefits of crying as a natural mechanism for healing and coping with change.

Studies reveal that crying helps us in a number of ways.  It can elevate our mood better and faster than anti-depressants (a University of Florida study).  Producing tears causes a release of hormones that can provide a feeling of relief, even if our circumstances still remain the same.  In analyzing the make-up of tears, research shows it actually helps our bodies release toxins and stress hormones, which reduces tension, in contrast to stuffing feelings which leads to elevated blood pressure, headaches, and chronic pain.  Crying also releases pent up anger as well as sadness.  It can boost communication, as when we cry, we show our distress and pain, letting people know what hurts.  Tears reveal our deep caring and express our vulnerability.  Professor Roger Baker, a communications researcher, says, “crying is the transformation of distress into something tangible.”   It tends to make people soften, allowing them to come closer, rather than pushing one another away.

What soap is for the body, tears are for the soul. – Proverb

Research does show there are certain conditions that help us get the most benefit from crying.  People who receive social support while crying (a shoulder to cry on) report more cathartic release than people who cry alone.  And, interestingly, people feel better when they cry about a situation that’s already been resolved.  Crying before you’ve made a decision about a situation can actually make you feel worse.  It seems the relief of crying is a release of tension best achieved when you can let your guard down.  And finally, and not surprising, studies show that to get the emotional benefits of crying, you need to be somewhere where you feel safe and where it’s appropriate.  Crying in front of certain people or in public can lead to embarrassment or shame, instead of relief.

I remember studying with amazement a culture on a remote island in the South Pacific.  After the death of a loved one it was expected that people would venture out on the street to wail and sob.  For weeks, as villagers pass by, they actually join in.  Imagine that! Crying wasn’t something to be embarrassed about or controlled, it was seen as vital to healing and something to be done in community.  Not surprising, the members of this culture had much fewer symptoms of unresolved grief over time and much lower rates of depression.

So as I think back to my ride home from the airport, viewing the road through my tears, I am grateful I had the chance to let go.  In the days since, it’s helped me be more aware of the many changes going on in my life and feel more at peace with them.  Although I can only imagine what I’ll be like in August, coming back from actually dropping her off at college.  I guess I’ll just have to reload the tissue box and maybe, if I’m lucky, gather with some villagers along my way.