4 Helpful Things to Remember When You’re Angry

I never considered myself an angry person until a few years ago, when I noticed an undercurrent of irritability seeping into my days like toxic groundwater.

Unlike the occasional bad mood that would ease after a good night’s sleep, this funk wasn’t going away. Each day I felt my internal posture stiffening into frustration, annoyance, and resentment.

Where did my anger come from, and what could I do to stop it? I sought out a therapist to work through those questions, and while I still struggle with anger at times, it’s no longer the constant companion it once was.

Here are some of the top lessons I’ve learned about anger.

3. Some basic self-parenting can stop anger in its tracks.

For all the times other emotions are at the root of my anger, my tendency to live like an unsupervised toddler is just as often a trigger. As if my adult self doesn’t know better, I barrel through my days without resting, overstimulating my senses. I refuse to eat my vegetables and instead fill up on empty calories. I sit in front of a screen for hours on end rather than playing outside.   

When my kids were little, if one of them threw a tantrum, I always asked myself, “How long has it been since food or rest?” I knew how quickly emotions could spiral if my toddlers’ basic physical needs went unmet. Why am I so slow to recognize those same needs in myself?

It’s much harder to tackle the issues beneath anger if I’m also battling sensory overload or blood sugar fluctuations. Self-parenting means looking at unbecoming emotions with a caregiver’s eyes, recognizing my body’s imbalances, and disciplining myself to pause for sustenance or rest. 

4. It’s okay to be honest with God about your anger.

Speaking of anger, there have been times when mine was directed heavenward. For years I couldn’t admit that, even to myself.

A few years ago, after a season of prolonged internal turmoil, my anger toward God became acute. I feared being honest with Him about it, so instead of telling Him, I stopped talking to Him altogether. It wasn’t a conscious decision, rather a gradual drifting over a span of months.

Finally, I found my voice and asked Him some hard questions. Afterward, I was tempted to backtrack, to apologize away my rant. But I’d grown weary of pretending, so I simply sat with the echo of my anger reverberating in the silence. 

In the ensuing stillness, I expected to feel every bit of the yawning chasm that seemed to have opened between us. Instead, I sensed the surprising warmth of connection, as if I’d cast narrowed eyes upward only to find Him gazing at me with tenderness, even delight.

I don’t pretend to understand much about God, but I understand this—my anger didn’t shock or startle Him. He didn’t disown me because of it. He listened to my worst and didn’t turn His face from me. The experience deepened my trust in Him, which turns out to be a powerful antidote for anger.

Do you struggle with frequent anger? Have you ever thought of yourself as an angry person? I hope this post frees you from self-condemnation and helps you view your anger in a gentler way, with curiosity—and hope for more rested days ahead.