Anger, the Body, and the Biology of Release
A Multisystem Invitation to Heal
Sometimes it starts as a tight jaw. A restless night. A pulse quickening for no apparent reason. Anger doesn’t always arrive with volume—but the body feels it. It lingers in the shoulders, in the breath, in the silent strain of trying to hold it all together.
In Chinese medicine, anger is not just an emotion. It is a pattern of energy—one that belongs to the Wood element and the Liver system. It’s considered hot, excessive, and upward-moving. But what we see—the irritability, the outbursts, the tension—isn’t the root. It’s the symptom. The real story is underneath.
This is the terrain of patients who have been carrying too much for too long. The ones who’ve normalized tension. Who say they’re “fine” while their labs tell another story. These are the ones who need more than prescriptions. They need frameworks. Practices. Invitations back into their own bodies.
From a neurological standpoint, unresolved anger often reflects a stuck fight-or-flight response. The HPA axis—the body's main stress communication pathway—becomes dysregulated. Cortisol surges or flattens. The amygdala stays hypervigilant. Executive function dims. Over time, this chronic stress shapes everything: sleep, mood, hormones, digestion.
Anger, in this way, is not just emotional—it’s endocrine.
Immunologically, anger fuels inflammation. It raises interleukin-6, C-reactive protein, and other markers of chronic immune activation. Over time, this can look like autoimmune flares, cardiovascular strain, or metabolic shifts. The immune system doesn’t differentiate between internal and external threat—it just responds.
And in the language of Chinese medicine, this maps to Liver qi stagnation transforming into heat. When the Liver’s role of maintaining smooth flow is disrupted, things begin to congest. Qi gets stuck. Blood follows. Heat rises. We might see migraines, PMS, skin flares, or outbursts that feel disproportionate to the moment. Eventually, the pattern shifts into deficiency—burnout, fatigue, dryness, or depression.
Functional medicine tells a similar story: sluggish detox pathways, estrogen dominance, cortisol resistance, histamine sensitivity. The liver—whether viewed as an organ of movement or of metabolism—is central to both paradigms.
Why does this matter?
Because anger, when unacknowledged, becomes a root cause. And when we meet it with respect—not suppression—we begin to unlock real healing.
Clinically, this is the patient who is always "on," always giving, often exhausted. Their tongue is red at the sides. Their pulse is wiry. Their DHEA is low. They’re inflamed but depleted. Tired but wired. Their healing requires nuance: herbs that move but don’t deplete, conversations that invite without confronting, and somatic practices that teach the body how to feel safe releasing what’s been held.
This is where our tools matter. Not just needles and labs, but the tone of our voice, the safety of the space, the way we track their breath. This is where healing becomes relational.
We don’t heal anger by analyzing it. We heal it by metabolizing it—through sweat, sound, stillness, and support. Through therapeutic movement. Through co-regulation. Through remembering that the body is not betraying us; it is broadcasting wisdom.
So when you see anger in the room—don’t flinch. Listen. There’s intelligence in the fire.
And if this resonates—if you’ve been holding more than your body can carry—it might be time to explore your own healing through a wider lens. Whether you’re a practitioner or a patient, know that you don’t have to do it alone.
Let this be an invitation to shift the pattern.
Take a walk in the wind. Press Liver 3 (Pictured below.) Journal what your body’s been trying to say. Breathe into your belly. Trust the intelligence that rises when you stop holding it all back.
Anger is not a flaw in the signal—it’s an amplifier of what needs to shift.
We don’t need to fix our patients.We need to help them listen. To trust that their body is not betraying them—it is revealing something. The acupuncture point opens the gate. The herbal formula clears the channel. The therapeutic conversation lights the lantern. This is how we move from symptom management to soul medicine.
If you’ve felt this fire in yourself or in your patients—know that it is a call for reconnection. The body is the interface. And release is possible.
🌿 Begin by meeting the sensation. Place a hand on your heart. Inhale into the belly. Ask: what is this heat protecting?
🌿 Practitioners: consider adding somatic practices to your intake forms, or creating space in session for nervous system integration.
🌿 For those called to go deeper, I offer virtual consultations to help you understand and unwind the patterns of inflammation, hormone imbalance, and emotional holding through a personalized, multisystem lens.
✨ Healing is not always calm. Sometimes it begins with rage. But when we learn to channel the fire, it becomes light.
At the speed of light,
💫Dr. Meghan
If this post resonated, trust that it did so for a reason. Healing is not a destination—it’s a return to the rhythm of your own body. Whether you’re navigating chronic symptoms, emotional patterns, or simply seeking deeper alignment, I’m here to walk with you.
I offer virtual consultations for those ready to explore root-cause healing through a holistic, integrative lens. If you're local to Southern California, you can also be seen in-person at Sage Health in Encinitas, CA, where ancient medicine meets modern care.
You’re not alone in this. Your body is the interface. Let’s tune in, together.