Emotion Spotlight: Anger

An·ger /ˈaNGɡər/: a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility.

You feel it when you do everything you can and nothing goes your way. When you lose someone and you wonder, “Why?”

Anger is part of the very complicated range of human emotion. And it doesn’t end there. There are types of anger, too. Dry anger that grips your mind and makes you see red. Wet anger that clamps onto your heart and makes you cry as you curse. There’s misguided anger to your loved ones and situational anger for those times you hate the world and the society we live in.

When I was in 5th grade, my teacher told me, “you get so angry, and you don’t want to be an angry person.” When I was a sophomore in high school, my best friend told me, “you need to stop getting so angry.” I had a lot of pent up anger from the years. I was told it was in my genes, but my mother—even with her hot-headed nature was not an angry person. Frustrated by her 5 dumb kids, sure. But never angry. My dad—quiet and level-headed. My mom’s foil.

The pattern of anger made sense when I was diagnosed with anxiety. I was told that long term anger was associated with anxiety, but the emotion doesn’t necessarily cause it.

When I went to college, as many of you know, I fell into a rabbit hole of problems. My anger, which I never fully understood, made sense when the anorexia planted itself in my life. I was angry at myself. Why? Because I couldn’t control things that went wrong in my life. I could control getting good grades in school, but I couldn’t control my ankle injury that stopped me from playing volleyball. I could control my decision in choosing a college, but I couldn’t control the events that ensued after I stepped foot on campus.

My anger, the emotion that dictated part of my personality for years, was the result of a loss of control. And when I told myself I was hideous and not “the right weight,” I tried to control what made me healthy. I lived off of Snapple and a few bites of an apple for a while. I exercised every day. Then I’d lose a few pounds and push myself harder. I was in control and happy. Then one day I fainted and fell off of a treadmill. When I couldn’t exercise, I’d skip meals and swapped the apples for alcohol.

And when my mother discovered how horrifyingly underweight I was, I lost control again.

Months and months of doctor visits and nutritionist check-ins and therapy sessions made me angry. But my body, in its 115 pounds, made its way back up to a healthy target weight.

My mind? It didn’t work as quickly getting to its health target. I was angry because I lost control then, and then needed someone else to take control for me. Don’t get me wrong. Anger is healthy. It’s good. You should be angry about the things that frustrate you. Be angry at societal structures and standards. Be angry that people get hurt, live in poverty, are torn down.

My experience taught me that anger, while pointed at the right things, is okay. But it also taught me that anger can be all-consuming. It can onset symptoms of anxiety; for me, it went a step further and made me starve myself. In the long term, anger hurts more than just yourself. Despite that, anger is not a bad thing. It can be revealing. It can be overwhelming. Anger, in its red hot, fiery nature, is still just an emotion. And you choose to let it dictate your actions, or not at all.