Exploring techniques to manage anger and improve heart health. Photo / Getty Images
A new study linking anger to heart problems spurred our short-tempered writer to try out some calming tips recommended by experts.
In a fit of fury, I have been known to smash glasses, punch pillows and kick trees.
When my son was young, and I was grinding along on three hours of broken sleep, I would sometimes find myself filled with a rage so strong I felt that I could pull down barn doors with my fingernails and set light to curtains with just my eyes.
As a result, I have often wondered if anger is a bigger issue for me than others. Things are better now I’m out of the post-partum haze but when I argue, I can still do so with an electric thrill of fury. When things go wrong, I will still swear and snap instead of feeling scared or upset. I still shout at the radio.
All of this, according to a new study published in the Journal of the American Heart Association, makes me more susceptible to heart problems than other people.
The study took 280 healthy adult participants and asked them to recall relevant personal memories that would evoke either anger or anxiety over a period of eight minutes. Another group was asked to read descriptions that would evoke sadness. While in the emotionally neutral category, they were simply asked to count to 100 over and over again for eight minutes.
By comparing blood pressure tests, researchers concluded that “provoked anger is associated with an increased risk of cardiovascular disease events”. This was because the flow of blood to heart tissue was lower during the angry state. While we don’t actually know the underlying biological pathways that mean anger impairs the flow of blood to the heart tissue, it’s believed to be linked to stress.
As a child, I was diagnosed with a heart murmur, which meant I couldn’t go scuba diving or get my ears pierced. Well, you can imagine my chubby, 8-year-old fury. As a teenager, I could often be found having screaming rows with my family and, in my 20s, was often pushed into ugly tempers by my flatmates, colleagues and partners.
So I would rather not damage my heart much further. While I have stopped smoking and exercise regularly, this study would seem to suggest that a little emotional workout may also be in order. Here are the seven anger management techniques I tried, recommended by experts.
On the first day, I was cycling to the library when a car full of young men screeched into a swerving, performative acceleration just centimetres from my bike. As someone who frequently cycles this route with small children, I was instantly filled with fear and, yes, anger.
I consulted Julia Miles, a psychotherapist who specialises in anger management. She suggested box breathing and so, as I continued on my journey, I breathed in for a count of four, held it for a count of four, exhaled for four and held my breath for another count of four, on repeat. Of course, I then caught up with the car at the roundabout. Despite the box breathing, I found myself leaning towards the car window and saying – okay shouting – “Looks like I overtook you”. I may need to practice my box breathing for a little longer next time.
The second technique I was interested to try was one recommended by the mental health charity Mind: “Keep a small object with you to hold and focus on when you feel angry”. As someone with a small son, my pockets are a sort of mobile landfill of toys, sticks and precious bits of fluff. So, I decided to take one of these – a particularly nice, smooth pebble - and have it literally in hand for the next time I flipped my lid.
I didn’t have to wait long. While taking my son to school the next day, I was confronted by an absolute Matterhorn of dog waste, right in the middle of the footpath, which runs between two primary schools and beside a public park. Hollering at my son to try, somehow, to avoid it, I reached into my pocket and slipped the pebble into the palm of my hand.
Trying not to inhale too deeply, I tried to concentrate on the pebble’s polished surface, to think about its mighty geological age, to imagine myself in its sedimentary layers. But then we went past a poo bag hanging from a branch and, I’m afraid to say, any beneficial drop in blood pressure was pretty much obliterated.
Amy Morin, a psychotherapist and author, suggests that when angered by an event or memory, simply telling yourself “Don’t think about that”, isn’t always successful. “The best way to mentally shift gears is to distract yourself with an activity,” she writes. “Do something that requires your focus ... Some examples might include deep-cleaning the kitchen, weeding the garden, paying some bills, or playing with the kids.”
When I had a pitch turned down by a commissioning editor, a hot flame of frustration, anger and self-hatred burnt through me.
By chance, all my summer clothes were sitting in a blue Ikea bag in my loft and I was wearing what could perhaps charitably be described as an eccentric collection of running gear and florals. So, instead of ruminating on my rejection, I decided to get the ladder down and throw myself into The Great Seasonal Wardrobe Migration.
I put on a podcast, opened the window and for about half an hour lost myself in the sweaty, heaving work of shoving my winter belongings under the rafters. By the time I’d finished, I had been successfully distracted – even if I had just lost a significant chunk of my work day to an unpaid, un-urgent task.
One of the strangest anger management techniques I came across was via a recent study from the Nagoya University in Japan, which found that writing your negative feelings down on a piece of paper and then destroying the note – actually shredding it rather than just throwing it in the bin – reduced participants’ reported levels of anger.
It’s something, according to Miles, that people have done in rehab for years: “If you have some resentment you can’t address directly, then you are encouraged to write what is called a ‘no send letter,’” she explains.
“As strongly worded and as expressive in any way you can. It’s actually quite hard to do. Then you put it away – hide it – for four weeks. Don’t tell anyone you’ve done it. After that time has elapsed, you take it out and read it again with fresh eyes. If you feel that you’ve said everything you wanted to, then you burn it. Which is cathartic in itself; fire is so symbolic.”
The next time my husband and I had one of our arguments – which come around like milk deliveries and colds – I went downstairs and wrote down an excoriating list of things that he’d done to annoy me. It went from the extremely mundane to the fairly significant.
I didn’t have four weeks, nor did I trust myself to actually successfully hide anything in our small, two-bedroom house for long so, once I’d finished my poison pen litany, I took it outside and burned it on a paving slab.
The sky was pink, an owl hooted in a nearby tree and I did feel, momentarily lighter. Until I looked up and saw the discarded bike parts stacked up beside one of our rose bushes and, well, let’s just say I remembered some things that had got missed off the list.
Lots of people suggest that exercising can burn off anger by giving all that adrenaline a healthy outlet. So, before breakfast, I made a point of listening to the news headlines. Government incompetence, anti-immigration hate-mongering, sectarian murder, environmental devastation; it was all there. Plenty to fill me with a hot flush of anger and sadness.
I pulled on my running shoes and headed out of the door. There was dew on the ground, ducks in the stream and as the sweat started to gather beneath the straps of my sports bra I should have been feeling lighter. The unhappy chemicals running through my veins should have powered those big leg muscles and pumped my heart. Except, of course, I had decided to listen to a politics podcast during my run and so, drip by drip, my rage kept flowing.
Mind suggests that, when you feel yourself sliding into anger, you should try listing five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell and one thing you can taste.
Which is how I found myself sitting at my desk, trying to book a swim via a totally unworkable leisure centre website, owned by a company that also detains and abuses asylum seekers, very tetchily saying to myself: “I can see gravel, my curtains, a cup … I can hear the boiler … I can taste the damp bark grinds of my coffee...” A thoroughly unconvincing impression of a woman calming down.
After putting these scientifically backed techniques to the test, the thing I found to be most effective came courtesy of an online article I read called Understanding anger and effective anger management techniques (a short review). It claimed that “sometimes, humour can diffuse tension. Use lightheartedness or distractions like watching a funny video or reading a book to shift your focus away from anger”. Hmmm, okay.
So, on Thursday evening, I was slowly winding myself up into a fit of rage over my son’s inability to drink anything within 10m of a sofa without, somehow, spraying it everywhere, when he suddenly turned to me and said:
“How do you make an octopus laugh?“
“I’m really not in the mood to –” I began.
“Ten-tickles!” he cut in, delighted. And, well, I still sighed very, very loudly. I was boot-faced as I stripped the sofa cushions for the second time in a month. But I didn’t completely lose it. Which, I suppose, is what the experts may call anger management.
In the end, I didn’t find one single successful technique; rather a new willingness to talk about anger and a collection of possible things to try.
New York Times: The importance of specialised care for fragile new mothers.