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Anger was not an emotion that was permitted in the household in which I grew up. This emotion was present, hovering in the air like a dark cloud; it’s just that no one was allowed to acknowledge it. My father dealt with his anger by downing Johnnie Walker Red, starting on the bar car of the Long Island Railroad each evening and then presiding over our family’s dinner table with a glass of the amber liquid by his plate.
The rest of us—my mother, younger brother, and I—sat silently, our chewing and swallowing noises audible in the silence. I brought a book to dinner and read under the table until my brother vehemently protested. Then I started reading every line of type on the orange juice container night after night.
I grew up terrified of anger. I didn’t want to feel angry toward anyone, and I went to great lengths to avoid anyone feeling angry toward me. Boundaries were non-existent. My fear of anger was closely tied to my fear of abandonment and rejection, hallmarks of borderline personality disorder. One of the DSM-5 criteria for borderline personality disorder (BPD) is “Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights).”
A 2017 study published in Frontiers in Psychology found that “BPD patients are reported to experience such an unbearable amount of anger given their proneness to perceive personal threats in the outside world, mainly in close relationships, owing to both temperamental factors and early traumatic experience in the attachment matrix.”
When I was diagnosed with BPD, although “quiet BPD” wasn’t yet a concept, I believe I tended toward quiet BPD. As Imi Lo has written on this site, “You hide your anger sometimes to the point you don’t know it when you are angry.”
My terror and extreme avoidance of anger persisted for decades, through my fifties. My father was an alcoholic when I was growing up; although he got sober after I left home for college, we had a conflicted relationship. In my forties, I had taken a position at an outpatient clinic 15 minutes from where I grew up. Soon after starting work there, my father began to decline, first physically, then cognitively, and after work I’d do his banking and grocery shopping for him. I did these things mostly out of a feeling of obligation rather than love. He’d thank me but then in the same breath criticize my efforts.
When he passed away, I thought I’d feel a sense of relief and finally peace but instead I was hit with a migraine that lasted for four months. At the same time, I sank into an intractable depression. Eleven months after my father died, I made my fourth suicide attempt. This was 10 years ago.
The same study cited above states, “the fragile sense of self and extreme dependency from the meaningful other in which the BPD patients feel entrapped, often lead these patients to transform outward manifestations of rage into self-harming.”
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Following the suicide attempt was two years of the most intense therapy I’d ever experienced. I was able to acknowledge the rage and resentment I felt when my father died. All my life I’d worked hard to hear the words “I’m proud of you” come out of his mouth and when he died, I realized that chance was lost forever.
With the help of my psychiatrist, Dr. Lev, I was able to let myself feel anger for the first time: At my father, at my mother and finally at Dr. Lev. I told her that I loved her, and I hated her. And the world didn’t come to an end. We worked on my being able to acknowledge and verbalize my anger before my urges to self-destruct came to a head.
Overcoming my fear of anger took decades and, unfortunately, my father dying and a suicide attempt. Now when I feel angry, I no longer put my emotional and physical health at risk because I can acknowledge my feelings. I don’t necessarily have to do anything with the anger because I’m able to tolerate the feelings and I know they will pass. I spend the time trying to figure out why I’m angry and when I do, it’s as though I’ve solved a puzzle. It’s quite a feeling of accomplishment. Years in the making.
If you or someone you love is contemplating suicide, seek help immediately. For help 24/7 dial 988 for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, or reach out to the Crisis Text Line by texting TALK to 741741. To find a therapist near you, visit the Psychology Today Therapy Directory.
