Aaarrrrgghh!!!
What happens in your brain and body when you’re aggravated
Ten minutes (no biggie) and then 15. “Where are you?” I text. “2 min!” she responds. Fine.
Ten more minutes pass, and she’s still nowhere in sight. Suffice it to say, I am not pleased. Not angry, yet, but irritated—the lowest rung on the rage scale, but one big step nearer to the ubiquitous human experience where annoyances, hassles and frustrations mount to the inevitable: an irrational explosion directed at whichever unfortunate soul—my friend who’s running late, a slow cashier, your poor kid, the jerk who cut you off in rush hour—is closest.
Whether you call it losing your cool, blowing a gasket, flipping out or flying off the handle, if you’ve gotten to this point, irritation has won the battle. Luckily, with a little bit of introspection, you can still win the war. My friend, as usual, is late for brunch.
The evolution of frustration
Though a slightly late meal is hardly a “threat,” millions of years of human evolution have the brain computing the situation the old-fashioned way.
“Different and overlapping parts of your brain are frequently communicating about expected rewards and perceived threats,” says Melissa Brotman, PhD, chief of neuroscience at the National Institute of Mental Health in Bethesda, Maryland. Here, a basic human need (food, because I’m hungry) is being blocked by an obstacle out of my control (my ever-tardy friend). Frustration in the form of irritability is only normal and natural. Never getting angry or irritated, Brotman says, would be a lousy coping mechanism for certain circumstances, or, as the good doctor puts it, “maladaptive.”
Meanwhile, evolution has also created humans with all different thresholds for irritation. Everyone is conditioned by “both biological aspects that you’re set with and environmental experiences that change over time,” says Brotman.
Everyone experiences irritation sometimes, but my lax, type B buddy’s tolerance for lateness—and her flexibility in general—is far greater than mine. That’s probably a big part of why we get along so well most of the time: She’s the yin to my yang. But not today. Today, she’s just annoying me.
This is your brain on irritation
Alone at a table for two, I check and recheck my phone for a text—a “stimulus,” which is, technically, anything and everything that triggers a response in the brain. Whatever you’re doing, one of the hardest-working organs in the body is already busy making meaning of the situation at hand.
“Your brain is always going through this cycle of prediction and preparation, updating and course-correcting as it goes,” says neuroscientist Kristen Lindquist, PhD, a professor at Ohio State University. As I sit, still alone, at my table, my brain kicks into action as it remembers that my friend was late the last time we met up too.
Inside the brain, the amygdala, an almond-shaped structure deep in your temporal lobe, raises a red flag. “The amygdala identifies a potential problem and gears you up to take action,” says Lindquist. It shoots a message to the hormone-dispensing hypothalamus to release adrenaline and cortisol, aka the stress hormone. You are now in full fight-or-flight response mode.
“The information is sent down the spinal cord to activate your heart, lungs and muscles.” The heart is racing, breathing is faster, the body becomes tense and temperature rises. Do you recognize this sensation? It’s called the “I’m pissed off” response.
The fight-or-flight response that originated in the amygdala is also communicated to the prefrontal cortex. “This is the part of your brain that helps you reflect, make meaning of your emotional experiences as they’re unfolding and change your predictions,” says Lindquist. It’s the part of your brain that would wisely remind you that you love your friend, who has many other excellent qualities, that she’s not deliberately late just to spite you, and that you, too, have been late to events.
But the prefrontal cortex is now not getting the amount of blood and oxygen it needs to do its job (they’ve been redirected to your racing heart, your rapid breathing, your rising temperature). So the hasty amygdala is quick to take the wheel and foolishly steer you toward escalation instead.
“???????????” I type. And when my friend reads the text but doesn’t respond, I get mad.
Anger vs. irritation
Arguably the best thing about anger is that it’s very straightforward. “Typically, when people get angry, they know why,” says Ryan Martin, PhD, a psychologist and anger researcher at the University of Wisconsin, Green Bay. Whether your boss dumped an impossible deadline or your spouse spaced on your birthday, something specific happened to make you feel wronged, and you know just what it is and how you might fix it.
The same can be true of irritation—sometimes. Frequently, a slew of headaches has led to this moment. A pause to contemplate the source can help spot external, easily fixable nuisances like a mounting laundry pile (stop procrastinating) or a roommate blasting loud music (“Volume down, please!”). But it’s equally possible that you’ll come up empty for what exactly is getting under your skin or, more specifically, going on in your head.
Since I’ve got some time to think, I order a mimosa and sit with my feelings. I’m mad that my friend is late, true, but am I this mad all because of her? If I’m totally honest with myself, this aggravation isn’t entirely my friend’s fault. I stayed up too late last night flipping through Reddit (scientists have found that irritability and fatigue are strongly linked), and I also skipped breakfast (studies show that “hanger” is very real).
How irritated is too irritated?
If irritability regularly interferes with daily life or it’s a sudden symptom you didn’t have before, it’s time to talk to your doctor. Mention irritability—and/or accompanying physical issues like rapid heartbeat, shallow breathing, nausea or excessive sweating—and they’ll inevitably have a few questions.
“I’d want to explore underlying conditions like depression or anxiety,” says Martin, who would first rule out the serious stuff of which irritability could be merely a symptom on the side.
But it could be nothing serious at all, and just that you, like me and many others, have a low frustration tolerance to lateness, inefficiency and (perceived) incompetence. Also, long lines, traffic jams, tailgaters, loud breathers, interrupters—I could, and sometimes do, go on and on and on. It’s easy to let the little things nag at you all day; it’s hard work to control your thoughts and manage your moods.
I like to imagine irritation as being like water collecting in a bucket: I can’t change the size of my bucket, but I can scoop water out before my bucket overflows and spills, resulting in my snapping at a teenage cashier.
How to skip that shameful scene in advance? Well, you know, with healthy habits. “Take breaks throughout the day; get outside; take a five-minute meditation break or even just a few deep breaths. These will all help alleviate some of that irritation before you reach the breaking point,” says Martin.
The myth of venting
“This is the last time & you’re dead to me,” I text. OK, I don’t actually send it, though I won’t deny the thought feels devilishly good. You might think that exploding to let it all out, not to mention smashing a plate and making a scene, would be the best way to let your anger go, but you’d be wrong.
“It’s a myth dating back to Aristotle that it’s good to vent and blow off steam, but there’s literally no scientific evidence to support that it works,” says aggression expert Brad Bushman, PhD, a professor of communication at Ohio State University. Yelling or screaming or punching a wall doesn’t just fail to relieve pressure, he says, but actually makes it worse: “It’s like using gasoline to put out a fire. It just feeds the flames.”
Less dramatic and far better is to take a deep breath and stay calm. “You can’t control other people’s irritating behavior, but you can control how you respond,” says Bushman. Most things that bug you are out of your control, so controlling what you can—that is, you—can give you a little feel-good hit that moves you in the right direction. And just in time, too, because guess who just walked through the door?
Back to good
With a big smile and a flower bouquet in hand, my friend is finally here, 38 minutes late (but who’s counting?).
My brain can’t do an immediate 180, but it gets right to work with a whole new batch of stimuli and corresponding chemicals: dopamine (a neurotransmitter that helps us feel pleasure) for my new pretty flowers; oxytocin (a hormone that helps us bond with loved ones) when she gives me a hug; endorphins (the body’s natural painkillers, which can create a feeling of well-being) that reduce my stress; and serotonin (a natural mood-boosting hormone) to counteract my bad mood.
Before I know it, the amygdala deactivates, and the rational prefrontal cortex regains control. Then we eat eggs Benedict and laugh, and I remember how much I like my friend, even if she’s perpetually late. Once the irritation is gone and coffee has kicked in, I decide to take Bushman’s advice and get proactive. “Rather than seethe about it, tell the person how you felt and that in the future, if they’re going to be late, to please let you know so you’re not waiting,” he suggests.
I realize my friend probably won’t change, and I probably won’t either. But at least the next time I’m left waiting in a restaurant, I’ll know how to better control my irritation before it takes control of me. Maybe a second mimosa?
