October 14th, 2009 by 
I’ve just been reading an article about women’s fury and how our raging is on the up. Apparently, due to the modern stresses and strains of multi-tasking we’re often passive–aggressive, bottle it all up, don’t know how to handle our fury and suddenly let rip. Sounds like a normal day in the life of moi!
Is our rage-o-meter rising or are we starting, at last, to take stock and seek help. For many the confessional is either the beautician or the bottle but as therapy becomes more acceptable, maybe we’re realising that we’re only harming ourselves (and others) by avoiding the issue?
Every time I read an article about anger, or chat to friends alcohol seems to be involved. That alone angers me; I become pious and want to shout: ‘STOP DRINKING THEN’.
That’s not a particularly generous response, I know. I’m unfortunate enough to feel very sick when I drink more than a couple of units so I can’t blame my foul-mouthed outbursts on Vino di Seeing Red and that annoys me. From what I can make out I simply inherited the angry gene. But, as a sage ex reposted during our break-up, I should: “Take responsibilty for yourself”. I try.
In fact, I’ve tried to professionally rid myself of my rage several times. The first was about 20-years-ago, when I’d had a particularly rough term at drama school. I took little from these group sessions, arrogantly spending most of the hour mentally mimicking the sub-voiced facilitator who attempted to whisper us into a sense of calm realisation.
The second time was during my gut-wrenching divorce. I went as a day patient to another group session. This time I was ready to listen but again I found more solace from other people’s problems than my own. Still in denial? Probably. I found myself thinking I should just get on with it – that these people were far worse-off than me. Once again I was obsessed with the relationship between the two facilitators who seemed to have their own ‘issues’. We were privy to their mutual dislike through therapy speak and it was riveting. I am way too unfocused to go to group sessions and it wasn’t until I visited a ‘human’ one-to-one NHS counsellor that I began my anger management work-in-progress.
I approve of my ‘respect your elders’ upbringing of 1970s but not at the expense of my own ‘voice’. And I think that’s where it all started going wrong.
My Mum reckons she didn’t swear until she had me: I tell myself that’s because of her own repressed upbringing. It was only when I was born that she had someone she could take her frustration out on. But I also now realise how on-the-edge motherhood can make you.
We need to be armed with the tools to speak up for ourselves, to respect our own opinions and express them fairly. From my experience this is where professional help comes into its own. We all know what it’s like NOT to be listened to and how frustrated rage can take over; it’s how we deal with it.
I wanted to get a grip on my anger for my small boys and my partner, breaking relationship patterns I regularly fell into. Shouting actually doesn’t get me anywhere. It doesn’t mean I don’t lose it but I’m getting there. Even when the rage of PMT takes over I can rationalise and find humour in the hatred. Sometimes!
Anger management therapy good in theory but not when you’re preparing two boys for the school run and porridge ends up on the cat.