JoeyJoelle

Recently, someone asked me what kind of therapy I went to.

The question came after I experienced a situation with another person that I really love. I had expressed that I was angry. Really angry. However, despite how angry I was, I also knew I didn’t want to destroy the connection we had.

I understood that I had to address what happened, but I also understood that I had to do it in a way that allowed the other person to actually hear me, understand what I was feeling, rather than immediately feel accused. Because most of the time, people don’t do things with the intention of hurting you. But when you love each other, hurt is almost impossible to prevent.

With that perspective in mind, I realized something. I might not be able to control somebody else’s actions, but I can control my own. And a long time ago, I made the decision that I wanted to become better at managing my own emotions so that, at the very least, I could do my part when it comes to communicating. If another person still chooses to react a certain way, that’s up to them. Like I said, I can’t control another person’s actions, but I can control mine.

I also strongly believe in the saying, “As within, so without.” Usually, when you speak from a calmer place, the other person is much more likely to truly listen to what you’re saying. So with that in mind, I made the conscious decision that I wanted to become better at navigating my own rage.

I think there are six stages of rage that I experience. There could be more, but these are the ones I’ve become aware of over the years.

Stage One: Absolute Fucking Rage

The thing happens, and I feel so much rage going through my body to the point that I want to destroy everything and everyone. And when I say everything and everyone, I mean destroy. Cause irreparable harm.

I know that sounds incredibly unhealthy, and I’m very aware of that, which is exactly why I’m writing this post. Because I have had to navigate my way through these stages. I know that if I were to act from that place, I could get myself into such a rage that I wouldn’t be able to reverse the damage I had caused.

I know the rage I feel. I know how angry I get. I know the energy that goes through my body.

When I get angry, I predominantly feel it in my stomach. It gets so intense that my body starts to warm up and creates a particular kind of energy that becomes incredibly overwhelming. Everything inside of me is screaming at me to move.

Act.

Do something.

Destroy something.

Scream.

Everything in my body, and I mean my body, is saying, move.

That is stage one.

The rage.

Stage Two: Awareness

Over time, I’ve come to understand that when my body urges me to act, it’s because something is happening inside of me. The first thing I try to do is become aware.

I literally tell myself, ” am angry. I am enraged.”

Then I ask myself, “Why do I feel this way?“

I acknowledge why I’m angry. Sometimes I speak about it with someone. Sometimes I just say it out loud to myself because I don’t always want to share with other people why I’m angry. But I do think it’s healthy to acknowledge it.

Now that I’m aware of it, I consciously choose to do the exact opposite.

I sit.

I don’t immediately try to fix it. I don’t immediately react. I simply sit with the awareness of what’s happening inside of me. Because awareness creates a pause. And that pause has saved me more times than I can count.

If you do not wish to be prone to anger, do not feed the habit;
give it nothing which may tend to its increase. – Epictetus

Stage Three: Letting It Move

Now that I’ve sat with the awareness, I allow myself to move so I can process everything. Because, once again, we don’t immediately have to fix it.

But the energy is still there.

The way I see it, at that moment I’m completely filled with rage. If I want to be filled with lighter energy again, I first have to let the rage out in a healthy way.

That doesn’t mean taking it out on another person.

It doesn’t mean taking it out on myself either.

It simply means allowing the energy to leave my body in a way that doesn’t create damage. Because we all have the tendency that when we’re angry, especially if another person is involved, we want to take it out on them immediately. But taking it out on someone immediately can lead to saying things you cannot take back. It can lead to damage that might be irreparable. And usually, while that may be exactly what we want in that moment, it isn’t what we actually want in the long run.

So I process the rage on my own first.

Now I do.

And that has made all the difference.

Stage Four: Self-Reflection

Now that the adrenaline and the anger have left my body, I’ve reached the stage where I can finally reflect. This is probably my favorite stage because this is where I get to zoom out on the situation. Up until now, I’ve simply been navigating the energy in my body. But now that my nervous system has calmed down, I can actually become curious.

“From the quiet reflection will come even more effective action.” — Peter Drucker

I reflect on the situation, but I also reflect on my emotions. Why was I really angry?

Because, more often than not, anger isn’t the emotion that’s asking to be heard. Anger is simply the emotion that steps in to protect whatever was hurt.

So I like to take a minute and ask myself what this really touched. How did it really affect me? What part of me was hurt that it caused me to become so angry about this situation?

And I purposely say the situation, because sometimes I’m not even angry at the person. Sometimes I’m angry at what happened. Sometimes the person simply became part of the situation that triggered something much older inside of me.

I also look at my own part in what happened. Not because I believe everything is my fault, but because I always ask myself whether there is something I can learn from it. Was there a boundary I didn’t communicate? Was there an expectation I never expressed? Did this touch an older wound that has very little to do with the person standing in front of me?

Those questions have taught me more about myself than any argument ever could.

Stage Five: Grieving What Was Hurt

One of the most beautiful things that usually comes out of reflecting is that I’m finally able to cry.

By then, there’s often still a little bit of stagnant anger left inside of me. And I’ve noticed that, for me, that anger is usually unattended sadness.

The anger did its job. It protected me, made sure I paid attention. But underneath that anger is often a part of me that simply got hurt. That part deserves attention too.

So I let myself cry.

I don’t judge myself for it. I don’t rush myself through it. I don’t tell myself to “get over it.” I simply allow the sadness to leave my body in the same way I allowed the anger to leave my body.

Because if anger needed movement, sadness usually needs softness. And once both have been given space, I feel lighter. Not because the situation suddenly disappeared, but because my body is no longer carrying it all by itself.

Stage Six: Communication

By this point my body feels much lighter. I’ve taken my time. I’ve allowed myself to move through every stage instead of forcing myself to react immediately.

If another person is involved, and if I believe the relationship or connection is worth having the conversation, only then do I communicate what was going on.

Because conflicts usually arise when people speak from their anger. One person gets angry. The other person immediately feels attacked and starts defending themselves. Then the first person feels unheard, gets even angrier, and before you know it, both people are no longer trying to understand each other. They’re simply trying to protect themselves.

I don’t think that’s because people are bad. I believe it’s because we’re human.

When something hurts us, we naturally want to protect whatever wound was touched. Fortunately, we also have the ability to pause and the ability to process. Which allows us to have the ability to communicate from a healthier place.

I’ve noticed that when I communicate from that calmer place, people are also much more willing to listen. They don’t immediately feel threatened because I’m no longer speaking from the place that wanted to destroy everything in stage one.

I’m simply explaining what happened inside of me. That doesn’t mean they’ll always understand me, nor does it mean they’ll agree with me. But at least I know that I did my part.

And if the relationship is healthy, this kind of communication usually creates understanding instead of more distance and it might even prevent the same situation from happening again.

A Final Thought

Some people might read this and think, “If something or someone can anger me this much, I’d rather just avoid it altogether.”

And while I completely understand that thought, I also don’t think it’s always the most realistic one.

We’re very quick to tell each other to leave.

“You don’t have to deal with that.”

“Just move on.”

“Fuck ’em.”

“Find someone else.”

We’ve become so used to treating people, relationships and even entire environments as though they’re disposable. As though the moment somebody triggers us, we can simply replace them.

But people aren’t disposable.

Lemme make something very clear: this doesn’t mean you should tolerate abuse. I’m not talking about staying in situations where you’re repeatedly disrespected, manipulated or harmed. This is solely about the ordinary conflicts that inevitably happen between people who care about each other. Because when you genuinely love someone, whether that’s a friend, a family member or your partner, hurt is almost impossible to prevent. People misunderstand each other and we make mistakes.

If you work in an environment that’s generally amazing but you have one colleague who really pisses you off, learning how to navigate your anger means that one person doesn’t get to ruin an environment you otherwise love.

The same goes for relationships.

I’m pretty sure long-lasting relationships aren’t built by breaking up every single time someone becomes triggering. I think they’re built by people who learn how to repair. By those who are willing to understand themselves before demanding to be understood by someone else.

That’s ultimately why I wanted to learn how to navigate my rage. Not because I wanted to become someone who never gets angry, but because I wanted my anger to be in charge of me.

I wanted my actions to reflect my values, not my adrenaline.

And these six stages have helped me do exactly that.