Welcoming Anger
The Emotions of Parenting Teens with Mental Health Challenges
The other night, I found myself screaming without knowing why.
On the surface, it seemed that I was screaming about kitchen utensils. But my kids looked at me with scared eyes and we all knew that my upset probably had nothing to do with a colander.
It was the culmination of an intense time. The previous week at work, my team hosted an all-consuming twenty-hour virtual conference. With my husband on an extended family trip, I operated like a single parent for the past five days, madly chauffeuring three teenagers, managing sibling drama and school deadlines. Within eight hours of my husband’s arrival home, I needed to leave on a work trip. Amid all this, my thirteen-year-old informed me that Picture Day for eighth grade graduation was imminent and according to her, this event required an investment of time and money rivaling the senior prom. So, we ran around buying or borrowing the dress, the shoes, the makeup, the jewelry, the hairspray. My high school son shook his head at his sister, perhaps because he is the type of kid who is too absorbed in math equations to worry about mundane activities like showering and wearing unwrinkled shirts.
A constant part of my responsibilities includes supporting Ellie, whose anxiety and ADHD make it hard for her to complete tasks independently. A week earlier, she worked on college transfer applications for this fall, pausing every ten minutes to ask my opinion about her essay. I cheered and coached when Ellie wanted to quit; in the quiet moments, I emailed each college’s Office of Disabilities. The next day, Ellie started classes at a local community college and I held my breath. After all, five months earlier at a small private college in another state, she skipped classes left and right until she quit altogether. Even though she made it through that first week, I struggled to relax, worried that Ellie’s mental and physical health challenges would disrupt her attempts to rejoin an academic community.
That Monday night when I screamed in the kitchen, my nerves were worn. Ellie and I had just returned from yet another doctor appointment, with yet another prescription for a “possible but not confirmed” diagnosis for her physical challenges. Ellie’s anxiety surfaced like a dolphin throughout the afternoon, and I tried to reassure her. But over dinner prep, her food-related anxiety rose again, and something deep inside me cried out in protest.
Why We’re Angry
Most parents have stories of losing their temper, whether their kids are toddlers or teenagers. For that matter, all of us have angry moments, regardless of who or what we take care of.
But there is an extra layer for those of us who parent kids with mental health challenges. The stress of caring for someone with a chronic illness can overwhelm us. Sometimes our child’s mental health condition causes them to act in ways that are mean, hurtful, and even violent. Sometimes our teens resist or oppose the treatment that would bring them healing. Maybe they have blamed us for their depression, anxiety, or eating disorder. Perhaps they have lied to us about following a recovery plan, secretly doing the opposite until the façade falls apart. Probably at some point, they have told us that we just don’t understand while slamming a door in our faces. We may have watched them repeat the same dreaded self-destructive behaviors as we realize that we are truly powerless over their healing.
Even when they choose recovery, we live in an in-between state of cautious hope and barely controlled terror. Any new path requires practice; no one changes overnight. As the parent, we are often the ones bearing the brunt of the slips and relapses. Throughout the journey, our child often needs a level of ongoing support which leaves us weary.
What to Do With our Anger
What do we do when we realize that we are furious about the manifestations of our child’s mental health challenges? What happens when we explode, perhaps in the heat of an argument or over a seemingly insignificant incident that was our last straw? Here’s two ideas.
Embrace Emotions
Sometimes I don’t notice my feelings, especially when my brain is hyper-focused on caring for Ellie in addition to the rest of my busy life. I might tell myself that Ellie’s needs are more important than mine, that I should just focus on gratitude, that other people have a harder life than I do. As a woman, I’m also aware that it feels uncomfortable to be angry – it’s easier to access my sadness and it’s more socially acceptable to cry than to yell. Anger is often considered a secondary emotion, hiding a variety of feelings like hurt, shame, fear, embarrassment or guilt which are also important to look at. When I ignore the emotions building inside of me, I’m likely to explode unexpectedly.
Denying or discounting my feelings doesn’t make them go away. If anything, stuffing feelings makes them more powerful and more likely to come out in ways that I regret.
We can give ourselves permission to name how furious we are about our child’s challenges. What if we believed that every emotion is welcome? We can embrace our anger as a way of protesting the fact that our child’s illness is twisting their beautiful humanity. For those of us who pray, we could view our anger as a form of prayer, of negotiating with God for a different reality. The psalms are filled with angry prayers of Jewish leaders who shared the depths of their rage with God. In a similar way, we can envision God welcoming our angry prayers as we express our true selves.
Create Safe Spaces to Express
In the kitchen, I knew I had lost my emotional footing. Thankfully, I know this: in my anger, do no harm. Dinner had to wait. I excused myself from the kids, raced upstairs, and screamed into pillow. I gave myself time to kick and slam my fists into the bed until my body felt spent. When I was calm, I rejoined the kids and debriefed.
I’ve learned that I can’t just talk through my anger in a normal tone of voice. Anger, like all emotions, lives in our bodies. The difference between saying, “I’m angry” and allowing my body to express that anger is like the difference between shallow chest breathing while wearing a KN95 mask versus deep, slow diaphragm breathing in a yoga class. The latter brings lasting restoration and peace.
Years ago, in group therapy, I learned to express anger by slamming a baseball bat into pillows while yelling my frustration. Today, I slam a pillow into my bed. Sometimes I take a walk and slam my feet into the ground and punch the air. Sometimes I call a trusted friend who holds a safe space for me to yell and scream because I just need a witness. As an extrovert, having someone on the phone (or on the Marco Polo video app) helps me not to feel alone. All I need to hear is something nonjudgmental like, “Say whatever you need to. I’ll be here. You’re okay. Good job letting that anger out.”
In the treatment center, Ellie learned to express anger safely as well. I’ve found her throwing ice cubes against the shower walls or balled up socks across her bedroom. She tears up paper or scribbles madly on paper, all while yelling. Sometimes I think she pours her anger into artwork by concentrating hard on using her hands. I’ve heard others say that they can sing or dance their anger out. Anything we can do to express anger in our bodies, without hurting others or ourselves, helps us move through it.
It took me a long time to admit that I was angry at Ellie for her mental health challenges. It was easier to be angry with my husband, the medical providers who let us down, the school, the system, even God. But how could I be mad at Ellie when she wanted to hurt herself? Eventually, it helped me to separate Ellie from her eating disorder and to express my anger at her illness. I journaled, wrote letters I wouldn’t send, and used a therapy session to yell at the eating disorder. These steps brought a release I didn’t know that I needed. It also helped me to protect my relationship with Ellie from ongoing resentment and unwelcome explosions.
What about you? How do you recognize, welcome and express anger in ways that bring healing? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
I wish I had read this article years ago when my anger built up in a house full of adolescents. I especially like this idea of expressing anger in our bodies in an appropriate way.