Have you ever become so absorbed in what you were doing—an exciting project, a difficult school assignment—that you forgot to eat? If so, then you probably remember that throbbing headache that showed up a few hours later.

Most of us in that situation are able to put two and two together, and recognize that the headache is the natural and predictable consequence of going too many hours without eating. But imagine being so out of touch with hunger—so disconnected with the sensation, even after experiencing symptoms of neglecting it—that you were unable to realize that your headache was a hunger symptom. Imagine not putting two and two together. You would probably start worrying that something was wrong with your head, right? You might even make an appointment with a head doctor, just to rule out anything serious.

That’s what happens with many self-injurers. Only it’s not hunger they don’t recognize—it’s anger. Many of them are so out of touch with their own sensations of anger that it doesn’t even register in their bodies. They have no idea that they’re angry. Instead, they experience the symptoms of neglecting anger, and report those instead. Therapists, doctors, and loved ones are more likely to hear complaints of anxiety, depression, agitation, or shame rather than anger. And that’s because these are all symptoms that show up when you don’t acknowledge, express, or resolve your anger.

If you’re a human being, living in this world, during these difficult times, you have likely experienced some of these symptoms yourself. Think of a time when you became so incredibly angry, so overwhelmingly furious, that all you wanted to do was throw something, break something, or punch a few people in the face. (You’ve probably got a few of those lately, don’t you?) Now choose one of those instances where you couldn’t do a thing about it. There you were, tied in a knot by your fury and rage, and you couldn’t say anything, scream anything, throw anything, break anything, or post anything. Ever. Not even after you left the meeting, or class, or social setting, or family Zoom.

If this has ever happened to you, you probably remember becoming profoundly agitated. Perhaps you had a panic attack. Perhaps you experienced physiological symptoms like sweating, nausea, or aches. You may have canceled the rest of your day just to lay in your bed and cry. You might have surpassed all these avenues and just become totally numb. Sometimes for days!

This is what happens when we are somehow restricted from acknowledging, venting, and ultimately resolving our anger. Our bodies go into a state of irritation, then frenzy, then deadness. For most of us, these instances are few and far between—we’re usually able to do something about our anger, even if it’s screaming expletives in the car. But for many self-injurers, this is how they live.

Lots of self-injurers were taught at an early age that anger is a terrible, terrible thing—something that should never occur, no matter how unfair or hurtful the circumstances were. They understood early on that becoming angry was a signal that they were doing something very wrong, and that expressing or acting on it would be a cardinal sin. Their job was to be strong. To rise above. To engage their hearts and minds in an understanding exercise, wherein they could find compassion for the person causing them so much anguish. And in this way, they could sidestep anger every time it showed up.

Well, it worked! Many self-injurers have become so skilled at keeping any trace of anger at a distance that they find themselves, all grown up, not even realizing that they are angry about something when it happens. Instead, they divert their attention away from natural body signals of anger, and end up neglecting it. As a result, they feel nervous, jittery, panicky, sick, depressed, or even ashamed.

And even though it might not make sense to you, cutting, burning, carving, or otherwise injuring themselves is actually helping. For a self-injurer, once they hurt their bodies, all the bad feelings evaporate.

How can you help? Make it safe for them to get angry. Invite it, even. Show them that their teeth and claws are not going to do the irreparable damage they so fear. Show them that fighting is productive, and can actually get somewhere, even if it means hurting a few feelings along the way. And let them be clumsy! They’re not used to anger, so they won’t do it right for a while. That needs to be okay. You, the loved one, need to be gracious and forgiving as they fumble their way through reengaging with this long forgotten emotion.

– Angela Caldwell