Top 5 Clichés Regarding Anger [Mental Illness].

Cliches are taboo in all forms of writing. But sometimes they're the best way to describe the whirlwind of emotions that comes with daily stress and/or chronic physical or mental illness.

During heightened levels of stress, the brain may continuously release cortisol which is the brain’s defense mechanism to a threat. Increased cortisol can impact cognitive function. During ongoing stress, we often think differently. It can be harder to find the words we are looking for...so cliches are just easier. They are direct and to the point, people can relate to the meaning.

Cliche #1 Crawl under a rock.

Every so often the stress of life just gets to me and I want to crawl under a rock. And preferably stay there forever. The cool, mossy darkness entices. The serenity of nothing beckons my brain.

Cliche #2 Anger knocked on my door.

Occasionally, rather than retreating to the void I desire, anger chooses to knock on my door.

OK, in the situation below, it didn't really knock, it came barreling in without any consideration for my feelings.

Cliche #3 When the bough breaks.

Even though I have hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars invested in therapy - sometimes the bough breaks.

Cliche #4 Pushed me over the edge.

I walked in the door after a late night of work - and I was immediately bombarded by life. A whole bunch of nothing quickly turned into a shit ton (a technical term) of everything. For some reason, completely unknown to the universe, we didn’t get our water delivery. Not a big deal in my head, but it was to my son because our well water is nasty.

My son called to my boyfriend, who was sitting in the family room, “Hey, Brian, did you fill the water jug with well water?”

Brian stood up and started walking towards the kitchen.

In that moment, all I cared about were my herbs. I love my tiny garden. The little plants I cultivate are therapeutic and delicious. I have developed a (fairly consistent) routine of nurturing the herbs before work. I am (usually) pretty good at not killing them.

The iron deposits in our water stain everything so I use bottled water for the plants. Before Brian could respond I said, “Babe, please let me know when you do that so I don’t use the well water for the herbs.”

Brian stopped at the table and said, “That’s only the second time I put well water in the dispenser.”

I knew he did it for me. He knows I am spoiled by the hot and cold water on demand.

Brian went on to explain that we didn’t get a delivery this month.

I was confused and asked why we didn't get more water.

“I don't know, it’s not on the calendar,” He said, annoyed.

“What calendar? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would they skip a month of delivery?” I forced myself to stay calm.

But he was aggravated and had absolutely no tolerance for my ignorance regarding the water. Which in turn pissed me off because he manages the deliveries.

I quickly gave up on the conversation and barked, “Whatever, I’m going to my room.”

Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I made an effort to let it go. I employed a few coping skills to help manage my irritation.

I utilized a breathing strategy.

Practiced being present.