Getting Back on Track After an Anger Relapse

I didn’t want to write this post.

Not because I don’t believe in the work, but because this month I fell flat on my face.

After more than a year of doing well — real progress, fewer explosions, more self-control — I blew my top two or three times. All of them with my wife. And now we’re not speaking.

I feel horrible.

I’m not writing this as a therapist or an expert. I’m writing this as what I’ve always been here: an anger addict. Someone who knows what it’s like to think you’ve finally got it handled, only to feel the old current surge back underneath you.

Lately, I feel it everywhere.

Behind the wheel, where irritation comes faster and hotter than it did weeks ago. At work, where stress is getting under my skin instead of rolling off. In my body, where I can feel the tension humming, waiting for a reason to break loose.

This post is for me. And if you’re reading this and recognize yourself in it, it’s for you too.

Relapse Doesn’t Mean You’re Back at Zero

This is the first lie anger tells after a blow-up: You’re right back where you started.

That’s not true.

A relapse doesn’t erase the months or years of work you’ve done. It doesn’t cancel out the skills you’ve learned or the insight you’ve earned. What it does mean is that something shifted — stress, fear, resentment, exhaustion — and your old wiring took over.

Anger is addictive because it works in the short term. It discharges fear. It creates a sense of control. It pushes the world away when you feel overwhelmed.

When life piles up quietly, relapse often isn’t sudden. It’s gradual. We stop checking ourselves. We tolerate more stress. We let small resentments pile up. And then one moment lights the fuse.

The Undercurrent Is the Warning Sign

For me, the biggest red flag right now isn’t the blow-ups that already happened — it’s the undercurrent.

That low-level irritation.
That hair-trigger impatience.
That feeling of being put upon by work, traffic, noise, or expectations.

If you’re noticing this, don’t ignore it. This is your nervous system telling you it’s overloaded.

Relapse recovery doesn’t start with fixing your partner, your job, or the world. It starts with reducing pressure on a system that’s already running hot.

Step One: Stop Pretending You’re Fine

One of the most dangerous phases after a relapse is the shame phase.

I screwed up.
I hurt someone I love.
I should know better by now.

Shame doesn’t make you safer. It makes you defensive, secretive, and tense — which feeds the next explosion.

Call the relapse what it is. Not a failure of character, but a breakdown in regulation.

If you’re not speaking to your partner right now, that hurts. Sit with that reality without rushing to fix it or justify yourself. Repair comes later. Stability comes first.

Step Two: Go Back to the Basics (Even If Your Ego Hates It)

Relapse recovery is boring. And humbling.

It means going back to the fundamentals you may have relaxed because things were going well:

Slowing your breathing when you feel activated
Taking real breaks instead of pushing through
Getting enough sleep (non-negotiable)
Reducing caffeine, alcohol, or anything that amps your nervous system
Stepping away early instead of arguing longer

If your inner voice says, I shouldn’t need this anymore, ignore it. Anger doesn’t care how long you’ve been sober from it.

Step Three: Shrink Your World Temporarily

When anger flares back up, your tolerance window is smaller than you think.

This is not the time to:

Have high-stakes relationship conversations
Prove a point
Push productivity harder
Win arguments

This is the time to simplify. Fewer confrontations. Fewer expectations. More space to cool the system down.

Think of it like rehabbing an injury. You don’t test it — you protect it.

Step Four: Separate Accountability from Self-Destruction

You can be responsible without beating yourself into the ground.

Accountability sounds like:

I lost control
My behavior caused harm
I need to re-engage my tools and supports

Self-destruction sounds like:

I’m a lost cause
I always ruin everything
They’d be better off without me

Only one of those leads to change.

Step Five: Remember Why You Started

If you’re reading this, you didn’t start working on your anger because things were going great.

You started because you were hurting people you loved. Because you scared yourself. Because you didn’t want to live ruled by rage.

That reason still matters — especially now.

Relapse doesn’t disqualify you from recovery. It demands that you recommit to it.

Where I’m At Right Now

I’m not on the other side of this as I write it. I’m in it.

My wife and I aren’t speaking. The anger is still humming. The work feels heavier again.

But I know this much: ignoring it makes it worse. Pretending I’ve got it handled when I don’t makes it worse. Slowing down, owning where I am, and returning to the basics is the only path forward.

If you’ve relapsed recently, you’re not alone. You’re not broken. And you’re not starting over.

You’re starting again. And sometimes, that’s exactly what recovery looks like.

Antediluvian Man