Anger was my operating system when I first got here.
It was my default emotion when things weren't going well.
It was what allowed me not to feel the stuff underneath -- like fear of my ALOs dying, like fear that I wasn't really a good person, like a lot of other icky stuff that I don't need to rehash here.
With all of the imperfection in my life with addiction, I often felt it was a) easy and b) justifiable to lash out in anger. It allowed me to protect myself by feeling superior, part of my dance with codependency that left me feeling like some sort of abused heroine.
I find, as Cheryl said so well, that a lot of what now happens around me has nothing to do with me, so it's a lot easier not to take it personally. I am still learning to change my RE-actions to things. And so often, anger is a useful sign for me to stop and pay attention to what is going on. But it isn't an excuse to bash the daylights of whomever happened to trigger it. Because for me, what triggers me often has very little to do with the person who happened to flip that switch.
My emotions are my responsibility.
"Enlightened ones only show us the way. We have to do our own work." --The Two-Year-Old Yoga Teacher.