I'd love to tell you I fixed it. I didn't. What I've got is a lot fewer robplosions than I used to have, and a pretty clear idea of what works for me and what's a waste of time.
So the short answer to "how do I stop angry outbursts?" is this. You mostly don't stop them at the peak. By then you're past steering. You stop them earlier, by catching the signs in your body, getting out before the peak, and lowering the load that makes small things feel huge. Then you get some real skills, ideally with help, because doing it alone for thirty years didn't work for me.
Here's the longer version, in roughly the order I learned it. Which was the hard way.
Catch it in the body first
My head is the last to know. My body knows first.
The NHS anger page lists the physical signs: faster heartbeat, tense muscles, clenched fists, tight chest, feeling hot. For me it starts with a hot face. I get anxious, nervous, close to panic. My muscles tense up or twitch, my heart speeds up, my fists clench and my chest goes tight. When I notice any of that, I'm not angry yet. I'm on the way.
That's the window. It's short. If I wait until I feel angry, it's usually closed.
If you have ASD like me, this part can be harder than it sounds. Autistica says about half of autistic people have trouble recognising and describing their own emotions. I had no idea that was a thing until a few years ago. I'd spent my life mimicking emotions without really understanding them. That explained a lot. So I don't wait for an inner voice to ask "do I feel angry?" I go by the physical signs I've learned to read.
Leave before the peak, and say why
The classic advice is count to ten. The NHS suggests it, with calming breathing. Fine for some people. Counting to ten never did a thing for me. Ten minutes does.
The trick I had to learn was to say something on the way out. "I need ten minutes. I'm coming back." Without that, leaving the room just looks like the next phase of the explosion, and the other person is left standing there wondering what happens next. With it, it's a plan.
Then I go outside. Out here in La Petite-Nation, outside is trees and quiet, which is a cheat code I didn't have in an office in Vancouver.
Empty the glass
I think of it as a glass. Every day fills it a bit: noise, people, worry, bad sleep, hunger, being "on" for hours. The outburst happens when it overflows, and whatever drop overflowed it gets the blame.
So I watch the level. Did I sleep? Have I eaten? How many hours of people have I done today? Is it loud? None of that is exciting. It works better than anything I do once I'm already angry.
The NHS also says not to use alcohol or drugs to relieve anger. I'll add my own footnote: for years they were in the glass too, and they made everything worse. I haven't touched cocaine or heroin in sixteen years now. If substances are part of your picture, that's worth dealing with alongside the anger, not after.
Skills I had to learn as an adult
Most people seem to pick up some of this as kids. I didn't, or I picked up the wrong version.
The NHS says most anger management programmes are built on CBT, cognitive behavioural therapy, usually alongside counselling. CBT is about catching the thought that's pouring fuel on things ("they did this on purpose", "this is a disaster") and checking whether it's true.
The other approach that helped me is DBT, dialectical behaviour therapy, developed by Marsha Linehan. Behavioral Tech, the training institute she founded, explains it well. Two sets of DBT skills mattered most for me. Distress tolerance, which is getting through the worst minutes without making things worse. And emotion regulation, which is lowering how often you end up in those minutes. If you want to start on your own, this is the workbook I'd point to. It's a workbook though, so don't expect it to replace a therapist.
The Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills Workbook
McKay, Wood, Brantley
My take. Distress tolerance, emotion regulation, the skills I wish I'd had before every robplosion. Works for cravings too.
Good to know. A workbook isn't full DBT with a therapist.
I compare the approaches in CBT, DBT and ACT explained.
What didn't work for me
Hitting things to "get it out". Pillows, punching bags, whatever. For me it just made me better at hitting things and kept me revved up. Your mileage may vary, but I'd be careful.
Willpower. Promising myself, the morning after, that it wouldn't happen again. It always felt sincere. It never lasted, because nothing else had changed.
Explaining it away. Once I had the autism diagnosis it was tempting to file every outburst under "meltdown, not my fault". Some were meltdowns. That still didn't make them OK for the people on the receiving end. I get into that in Meltdown or tantrum? The adult version.
Getting help from other people
Therapy is where I finally saw the pattern under the outbursts, which I'd been too close to see for fifty years. In Québec you can start with 811, your family doctor or your CLSC. The NHS notes that anger programmes often mix one-to-one counselling with group work.
There are also free peer groups that include anger among the things they deal with. Emotions Anonymous is a 12-step program for emotional difficulties, with meetings in several languages including French, plus phone and video. Recovery International runs peer-led meetings in the US, Canada and online. I can't vouch for what any given meeting is like, and they vary. Worth a look if sitting in a room with people who get it sounds less scary than it used to.
If medication comes up, that's between you and your doctor or pharmacist. I talk about it more in Is there medication for meltdowns?
Where the line is
If the people you live with are scared of you, that's abuse. It doesn't matter how sorry you are after, or what's behind it. Keeping you calm is not their job. The NHS lists acting in an abusive or violent way as a reason to see your doctor, and I agree. If you're on the other side of it and you're afraid, SOS violence conjugale answers 24/7 at 1 800 363-9010.
Where I'm at
I catch maybe two thirds of them now. The other third I catch a bit later than I'd like, and then there's repair to do, which I wrote about in Repairing after a blow-up.
It's been a long road to recognize the signs at all, and to build the coping systems and tools that actually work for me. One thing I keep repeating to myself: the first step to finding support is talking about it. This is a lifelong thing, with plenty of ups and downs.
The background story, the word and where it came from, is in Why I explode over small things (the robplosion).