I keep translating anger into composure so no one has to deal with it properly

Dear Delyara, That realization stings. Because it means I am still protecting other people from the full shape of what has landed on me. I tidy the anger. I lower the volume. I make it reasonable, impressive, acceptable. Then nobody has to meet the original wound, and I get praised for being measured. Measured can be such a lonely word. I don’t want to become reckless. I do want to stop making my anger so easy to survive from the outside that it disappears as real information.