I still remember it clearly, that time in my life where I was driven by anger. I remember the fiery feeling of something sloshing in my belly at all times and the tightness of muscles held in place by keeping it all in. I remember waking up early and going for a run, before I had breakfast, before I had coffee, before I meditated even. I remember the fierce “why” questions, followed by the subtle unwinding of joints and ligaments. I remember the feeling of my feet on the road thwack thwack thwack and the steady beating of my heart thrum thrum thrum. I remember tears held at bay or let out (depending on the day). And then the moment: when adrenaline took over and my mind went mercifully blank. When all that was left was the rhythm coursing through my body and a small ever-increasing feeling of euphoria. When anger momentarily gave way to joy.

Before that time I was never a runner. In fact, I would say I was the opposite of a runner. I was an avid running-hater. There was this thing that my school used to do called the Cooper-test, where they would test our endurance by making us run for 12-minutes straight, and I would avoid it like the plague. Call in sick. Fake an asthma attack. Anything to get me out of running for a sustained period of time. It’s funny what the body does turns to to protect itself. 8 years later, filled with questions and what if scenarios, I turned to my running shoes out of frustration. I was processing two endings in my life and my feelings were running haywire. One minute I was laughing happily and the next I was midway through a crying episode. Mostly though, I was mad. Mad at the world, mad at myself, mad at everyone around me. I didn’t know what to do with my feelings— not having ever been an angry person previously— so I did the only thing I could think of: I ran. And it helped. Running allowed me to focus my energy somewhere, giving me the time to physically work through my heightened emotions. I didn’t expect it to but running gave me a safe space to be myself, with my overburdened mind and all of my violent feelings. When I ran it was just about the moment, putting one foot in front of the other, I didn’t have space for petty blame games or finger-pointing. Running helped me breathe.

I’m writing this post at request from a friend, so I’m a little more out of my element than usual.  How do you approach the topic “anger?” Don’t we all get angry? What do I have to say on this that isn’t a given? Is my point of view regarding this ancient raw emotion really valuable? My first thoughts on approaching the topic of anger were “I have none”. 1) because I don’t consider myself an angry person and 2) because my feelings are currently hiding as a result of my semi-damaged nerves (at least this is what I think is going on with them) but when I dwelled on it a little more, I was shocked by the number of things I encounter every day that do make me angry. Human rights injustices. Politics. Social media. Media in general. Misogynists. Certain types of fragrance heavy products. Plastic waste. Waste of any kind. Overeating. Waking up late. Badly written YA novels. People who use metal spoons in honey. Big pharma. It was crazy of me to think that I was somehow removed from anger. That anger isn’t something that concerns all of us every day. Before I found running, my solution to anger was always confrontation. Confront whatever was making me angry head on, whether it be a person or a personal problem. It wasn’t until 2018 that I learned that some forms of anger cannot be confronted away, that some anger stays with you even when you logically know why it’s there and have done what you can to address it.

I would say that the special thing about anger is that it can be both healthy and unhealthy. When you’re stuck, anger can sometimes act as the catalyst to get you moving (ask my 27-year old self why she decided to apply for a Masters). At other times, anger can often be the fuel to the fire, serving as the last straw before an emotional outburst. Anger is passion or adjacent to passion— because we should never really glorify anger— but there is something special about when that spark ignites.

When I was younger, the only way I dealt with anger was to suppress it. I grew up thinking I needed to be this perfectly behaved little girl, so I buried all of my “ugly” emotions, chief of them my anger. This came back to haunt me later in life, because all of a sudden waking one emotion was waking 10. It snowballed in a way, and I was left with a lot of unresolved feelings about the patriarchy, my German School upbringing and a number of other things.Suppressing never works with anything, although it does dull the impact when the bomb hits. I suppose it is a self-preservation method of sorts, although for me it did more harm than good.

When my grandma died, I went through the regular grieving process, with anger taking the better part of it. I couldn’t explain to you why, but her death had rendered me completely powerless. I recall welcoming in the grief and working to release it step by step, but I can’t recall why I was so angry. I had accepted that she was not to be with us anymore, and worked on honouring her life, but for some reason the grief— the anger— was all consuming. Someone once told me that underneath all anger is grief. I have felt that deeply. There is a sense of disappointment with someone or something that is the trigger behind feelings of anger. You want things to be differently than they are. You wish for a different resolution. You hope to change something. And maybe that is the key word behind anger, change. I think that all anger is rooted in a desire for change, whether we know it or not.

A couple of years ago I had a health crisis of sorts (you may have heard of this— for that I apologize). A virus inflamed the neural tissue that surrounds my brain and I was left with some impaired feelings in the gut, the seat—I am now coming to believe—of emotions. My anger all but disappeared, leaving me really “angry” that I could not feel rage anymore. What do you do when you don’t have that outlet of feelings? What do you do when an essential feeling is missing?

I have been reading extensively on anger since I got asked to write this piece and most of what I’ve read has been focused on dealing with anger. Controlling it. Expressing it. Finding its source. Some sources suggest things like breathing exercises, counting exercises, or just exercise in general, to delay the anger or get it out in a healthier manner. Others focus on getting to the root of the problem via counseling or journaling. In Chinese medicine, anger is related to the liver. Anger is the natural response to any interruption in the liver’s mission to move and to grow. At the same time, an excess of anger or repressed anger can inhibit the liver’s function leading to further emotional imbalance. Emotions like rage, fury or aggravation can indicate that the liver energy is out of balance. Thus finding ways to avoid angry outbursts can protect liver health. The cool thing about TCM (or Chinese medicine) is that it sees and treats anger not as a psychological problem or personality trait, but as a health disorder, one which can be cured through acupuncture and herbs. I have not tested this therapy myself, but I think it offers a lot of hope for those who struggle to control their anger. FYI imbalance in the liver system can manifest in headaches, waking up between 1-3AM , tension in the neck and shoulders and menstrual pain.  

So is anger good? Bad? A necessary life preserver? All of the above?

Here in the Middle East anger is often perceived as a healthy expression of emotion. A woman slapping her son is not mistreatment it is ta2dib. We’ve all seen mama’s shebsheb come out in times of misbehavior, thrown at us from an angle across the room. And yet, anger, when taken to its extreme can lead to cases of abuse. Being “hot-headed” is all well and good until there’s another person on the end of you, one who has to deal with your violent outbursts. I know close people that have suffered on the end of someone else’s anger, and I have seen the lasting damage that this has done to their psyche and their sense of self. If you or someone close to you suffer from serious anger problems, I recommend you seek outside help, as it is hard for us to see the full extent of the problem by ourselves. It is up to you as to how creative you want to get with this outside help. Maybe try acupuncture alongside talk therapy.

Personally, I miss anger. I miss that self -righteousness that comes with feeling that I’ve been wronged, or that fiery fight that gets sparked when a greater cause is on the line. If done properly, anger can provide us with information about what we want, what we don’t want, and what we need to do next. When seen as a signal to listen to rather than an emotion to ignore or be ashamed of, anger can be a useful tool. So next time you get angry ask yourself: What is underneath my anger? What needs to be expressed? What am I suppressing? What is fueling me? And most importantly: What am I gonna do about it?

Wanting to be angrily yours,

Girl With One Earring