subscribe to the RSS Feed

Wednesday, May 6, 2026

Rage Advice

Posted by fxckfeelings on November 11, 2010

Anger is commonly taken as a sign of imbalance, sickness, and a personal failure to find peace. Anyone who’s ever had their lunch money stolen, been married (or divorced), or just driven in downtown Boston, however, knows that the above notion is bullshit; anger is what it is, and is often unavoidable. As with most of life’s near-uncontrollable impulses, it’s what you do with it, or what you let it do to you, that counts.
Dr. Lastname

I was diagnosed with Parkinsons five years ago, and cannot for the life of me figure out how to get beyond being PISSED OFF about it. No, I don’t want to find a new hobby, interest or job. I was perfectly happy with my “pre-Parkinsons” hobbies, interests and job…thankyouverymuch. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sitting around throwing what anyone would consider a pity party; in fact, I have people frequently tell me how amazed they are at how well I’ve adjusted to my “new life”. I’m doing all those “plan B” hobbies, interests and jobs that any self-respecting chronically diseased person should attempt to do. But, the bottom line is that I HATE all this plan B bullsh*t! So far, all the talk therapy, antidepressants, Zen type activities and straight up “get a grip” self talk have proven no match for my anger. Quality of life is much more important to me than quantity, so I’m in serious need of a plan C that includes quality improvement. Any suggestions on how I can get the hell out of my own way long enough to ever device a plan C?

Anyone who writes as eloquently and vigorously as you do has a curse as well as a gift: high expectations for a life that meets your standards for fun, creativity, and excellence.

While your gifts make you a more interesting person, there’s a special hell reserved for those with special gifts who develop them well…and then run into a brick wall.

Other people think you’ve still got lots going for you, and they’re right to some degree. What you know, however, is how far short you, and life, fall below expectations. It feels like a personal failure and total fuck-up, which, to every degree, is wrong.

In addition, neurological illness can have a direct effect on the parts of your brain that control rage and pleasure. You can be doing all the right things—and are, from the sound of it—and still feel explosively miserable, not because you’re reacting to illness, but because of your illness.

So, it’s no surprise that Parkinsons has left you madder’n hell, and I don’t see why you should expect that to change. You were happy when you were firing on all cylinders; now you can’t, and you’re not, and you’re not the kind of person to get over it, at least not completely.

That said, ask yourself what else makes your life meaningful other than doing the things you love to do and being happy. What seems to matter to you is doing the most with what you’ve got and, I would guess, helping others and being a good friend to those you care about.

You’ve probably thought of this, but I bet you’d be of particular help to other people with neurological illness who struggle with anger. In the beginning, it might help you to know that you aren’t alone and that there are good, respectable people who feel the same way and can’t help it.

As time went on, you’d also come to appreciate how hard it is for someone to do the good, constructive things you’ve done, particularly when the anger won’t let up. Then other people would take hope from seeing what you’ve done. It might not be as good as one of your “plan A” hobbies– it’s probably better.

You might even find yourself specializing in helping those who are really, really angry. Hey, a lot of us get into this business for similar reasons, and that’s why we get as much out of it as our patients do.

So don’t “get a grip,” get a posse. And then maybe, if it appeals to you, a practice.

STATEMENT:
“I wish I could achieve a little serenity about my chronic illness, but I can’t, so I’ll try to be serene about my rage instead. I’ll try to continue to do good in this world, even if I can never feel good, and take pride in the way I fuckin’ bear this fuckin’ burden.”

I hate my wife so much it’s hard to live with her or remember what a good marriage we used to have. In the old days, she was wonderful at throwing parties and having fun and buying me beautiful presents, and we traveled everywhere. Then, after an unfortunate financial wipe-out, she became a miser and a nag. She doesn’t mind living on less; she does volunteer work and is happy with her hobbies. I, on the other hand, feel like life has become miserable and I’ve lost my best friend and she doesn’t understand or care how I feel. I’ve also cut back on spending and I work pretty hard; and, shortly after this crisis, I discovered I’m bipolar and I’ve learned how to manage my mood swings pretty well, but there are times I can’t stop myself from snarling at her and wishing she was dead. I hate feeling this way.

Anger is a kind of agony, unless you have some hope of smiting your tormentor or achieving some kind of relief/release, in which case you have a lust that is usually stronger than lust (and no fear of the criminal justice system).

The trouble is, anger is everywhere and unavoidable unless you’ve been lobotomized; irritability is a common symptom of mood swings, both highs and lows, and that’s excluding the many uncontrollably irritating things that can happen to you.

So it’s no wonder that the main reason many people see shrinks is to get over their rage. In the words of the preacher in The Big Chill, “I’m angry and I don’t know what to do with my anger.” I don’t know what to do with it, either, but I don’t mind being paid to think about it.

Between your bipolar mood swings, and your need for excitement (which is part of having bipolar mood swings), you’re bound to feel angry, particularly if you have to rein yourself in. You’re the object of a double reining: from an exhausted bank account and mood stabilizers. In other words, you’re double fucked.

Then again, remember the main reason most of us get married– to have someone to blame. As such, it’s very hard for you not to hate your wife, which brings up another positive observation: your hate hasn’t stopped you from doing many good things, like working hard, trimming your budget, and sticking with your wife. You’re suffering and whining, but doing (most of) the right things.

If you think you’re supposed to be happy, given your temperament and budget, then think again. If, however, you know you’re cursed, then you can really appreciate the unexpected strength you’ve shown. You haven’t let your anger push you into drugs, sloth, or running away.

So take it up one more level. Respect what you’ve done, and use your self-respect to bottle up your anger a little more, and treat your wife better. You may well recover some of that good old chemistry if you can trim the nasty behavior (and accept a trimmed down budget).

STATEMENT:
“I miss the good old spending days and feel hopeless and angry when I have to think of living on a budget and never spree-ing again. I wish my rage would ease up; but that doesn’t seem to be in the cards. So I’m proud that I’ve stuck with my values, no matter how bitter I feel, in most areas of my life; and I wish I could stick with them in the one relationship that is most important to me and that, unfortunately, has absorbed the brunt of the anger I can’t express elsewhere.”

Comments are closed.

home | top

Site Meter