EMDR for anger management: Can EMDR help anger

The Fire Beneath: Healing Anger with EMDR

By Tracey Brittain MA, BA (Hons), EMDR accredited, BACP accredited, registered member of UKCP

​The Volcano in the Lounge

Anger walks into my therapy room wearing many faces: clenched fists, red cheeks, silence so thick it buzzes. Sometimes it storms in like a lion. Sometimes it sulks in like a damp cat. But one thing’s for sure – it never shows up without a suitcase of unspoken stories.

My name’s Tracey Brittain. I'm a psychotherapist and an EMDR practitioner and I work in a space where people arrive with anger and leave with insight, peace – occasionally a biscuit. Over the years, I’ve learned that anger is not the enemy. It’s a bouncer guarding the club of our nervous system, refusing entry to vulnerability, rejection, and pain. But what if we didn’t need a bouncer? What if we could invite those parts in for a quiet cup of tea instead?

Studies have demonstrated that EMDR reduces trauma-related symptoms that often manifest as anger and hypervigilance. One study on major depressive disorder patients showed significant reductions in trait anger following EMDR intervention (Bae, Kim & Park, 2020). This supports the view that unresolved trauma – not personality defects – underlies many anger issues.

Let’s start with a word that gets thrown around a lot but is often poorly understood: trauma.

Trauma isn’t just what happens to us – it’s what happens inside us as a result. It’s not the event itself but the lasting imprint it leaves on our nervous system. Trauma occurs when we face something overwhelming, and we don’t have the support, safety, or ability to process it. Our body remembers, even if our mind tries to forget. It lodges in our reactions, in our posture, in the way we flinch when someone raises their voice or when a car swerves too close.

Unresolved trauma creates a body and mind that live in the past, reacting to the present as though it were the battlefield of yesterday. And often, the result is anger. Not because we are bad or broken, but because our system is still trying to survive something long gone.

This is where EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitisation and

Reprocessing) steps in – not to erase trauma, but to help the nervous system refile it under ‘past’, so it no longer hijacks the ‘now’.What the Research Has to Say

"Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burnt" Budda

When Talking Isn’t Enough

So how do you get rid of anger. Here’s something I see far too often: clients who have spent years in therapy, telling and retelling their trauma stories like they’re trapped in a loop. They’ve done their breathing. They’ve reframed. They’ve written letters they never sent. And still, the anger returns. The anxiety flares. The nightmares come back.

Why? Because talking alone doesn’t always move trauma. Yes, talking can bring insight. And yes, it can act a bit like exposure therapy – going over and over the trauma until the sting lessens. But for many people, especially those with deep or developmental trauma, it doesn’t just fail to help – it retraumatises.

Each retelling reopens the wound. It strengthens the neural networks that hold the trauma in place. It leaves the client raw, exhausted, and often ashamed that “even after all this work,” they still haven’t changed.

This is where specific trauma therapies like EMDR and Brainspotting become essential. These approaches don’t just ask the brain to understand – they help the brain reprocess. They access the body’s storage of trauma and shift it at a neurological level. From threat to memory. From active wound to scar.

I receive many referrals from well-meaning therapists who aren’t trained to recognise trauma – who keep clients talking but don’t know how to move them forward. And I say this with love: giving a traumatised person a toolkit of coping strategies – breathing exercises, reframes, grounding scripts – is like handing a fire extinguisher to someone in a house that’s already burned down.

When someone is dysregulated from trauma, their nervous system isn’t interested in breathing calmly. It wants to fight, flee, freeze, or fawn. It doesn’t want a rational explanation. It wants safety.

In my experience, unless you help the brain neurologically file that trauma away – properly and safely – it will keep resurfacing. Not just in memories, but in relationships. In habits. In the angry outbursts, the shutdowns, the self-sabotage. That’s why EMDR isn’t just helpful – it’s often necessary. Because talking about trauma isn’t the same as healing it.

EMDR is not magic. It just seems like it. Research says it’s at least as effective as trauma-focused CBT (Lee & Cuijpers, 2013), especially in cases where trauma and anger dance awkwardly together. Another study (Ho & Lee, 2020) suggests that EMDR’s unique dual-attention method – think “look here, feel that” – is what helps untangle the emotional mess.

It helps because anger is often the understudy for trauma – loud, dramatic, attention-grabbing – while the real story is hiding in the wings, quietly waiting to be acknowledged.

Francine Shapiro, the founder of EMDR, conducted research comparing EMDR with cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT). Her findings revealed that EMDR not only alleviated trauma-related symptoms but also significantly reduced comorbid conditions like anger and depression. According to the Adaptive Information Processing (AIP) model, unprocessed traumatic memories remain frozen in the nervous system, contributing to emotional dysregulation. EMDR helps the brain reprocess these memories so they can be integrated into a healthier narrative (Solomon & Shapiro, 2008).

This is especially useful for individuals whose anger isn’t a personality trait, but rather a survival adaptation to perceived danger. Once the nervous system learns that the danger is over, it no longer needs to react with such intensity.

Dysregulation and Nuns with Rulers

Let’s talk about emotional dysregulation. It’s not a character

flaw. It’s a nervous system doing star jumps while everyone else is meditating. It happens when your brain's threat detection system is stuck on high alert. And EMDR? It’s like a therapist for your amygdala.

I once worked with a man who fought with his wife like it was an Olympic sport. Behind his explosive reactions was a seven-year-old boy whose early caregivers taught him that vulnerability equals punishment. When we processed that – the nun-shaped ghosts of his past – he no longer felt like he had to win every argument to survive it.

That’s the beauty of EMDR. It rewires you, not by explaining your feelings, but by helping your brain understand they’re no longer dangerous.

EMDR's adaptive information processing model posits that trauma disrupts the way memories are stored. Emotional dysregulation, especially in those with attachment trauma, may be a by-product of these maladaptively stored memories (Solomon & Shapiro, 2008). By reprocessing them, EMDR reduces reactivity and improves interpersonal regulation.

Neurodivergence – When the World Feels Too Loud

Not all anger is created equal. If you're neurodivergent – ADHD, autistic, or somewhere outside the ‘neurotypical’ postcode – anger can be your frequent flyer companion. Not because you're dramatic, but because the world is often built like a noisy airport with no clear signs, and everyone else seems to have a first-class lounge.

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD) makes even minor criticism feel like a dagger. Add to that sensory overload, social misfires, and years of being misunderstood, and you've got a recipe for shutdowns, outbursts, or both.

EMDR can be a lifeline. It doesn’t ask you to be calmer. It helps you feel calmer – by processing those cumulative traumas that taught your nervous system the world isn’t safe.

But let’s be clear: we need more research here. The anecdotal evidence is strong, but the clinical studies are still catching up. It's like knowing chocolate helps heartbreak but waiting for the journal article to confirm it.

When Anger Gets Physical

Anger doesn’t always come out in words or sulks. Sometimes, it crashes out into the world – through thrown objects, slammed doors, or white-knuckled steering wheels. When the nervous system is overwhelmed, and trauma is unresolved, it seeks discharge. And that discharge is rarely tidy.

Take, for instance, the client who arrived with chronic road rage. On the surface, it was easy to label him as “aggressive” or “volatile.” But underneath, there was a potent mix of trauma, hypervigilance, and a desperate need to feel in control. Every car that cut him off became a symbol of powerlessness – the very feeling he couldn’t tolerate.

He had spent years in therapy, mostly talking – lots of talking. Insight wasn’t the problem. He knew he overreacted. He just couldn’t stop. The anger was in his body, not his logic. He described driving like entering a battlefield – every lane change, a threat; every horn honk, a personal attack. The tension didn’t start when someone cut him off – it was always there, humming just below the surface.

When we used EMDR, we uncovered the root memory that fed this rage. A moment in time when he’d felt utterly vulnerable and unsafe – not in a car, but in childhood, where control had been taken from him. His nervous system had stored that vulnerability and filed it under "never again." So, every time he felt even a hint of helplessness, his system exploded.

Once that trauma was reprocessed, his need to fight dissolved. The anger didn’t just soften – it disappeared. He even joked that his car was enjoying retirement.

According to a 2022 review by Crimson Publishers, physical aggression is often a behavioural expression of unresolved trauma. EMDR was found to significantly reduce externalising behaviours like anger outbursts and violent reactivity by helping clients access and resolve the underlying trauma triggers. The study highlighted EMDR’s capacity to interrupt the trauma-anger-aggression cycle at the neurological level, rather than just managing symptoms on the surface.

When the Young Learn to Burn

Anger doesn’t wait for adulthood. I once worked with a teenage boy who had been expelled from school for his aggression – mostly directed at his younger brother. His home life was tense, and school felt like a battlefield. He wasn’t just acting out; he was drowning in something much deeper. Every raised voice at home felt like a threat. Every sideways glance at school felt like humiliation. He had no language for his pain, so he used the only language his nervous system knew: anger.

In our first session, he barely made eye contact. His shoulders were tense, his fists clenched. He told me, almost proudly, how he’d “smashed a chair” in an argument. But beneath the bravado was a boy desperately trying to feel safe. We began EMDR with small, manageable memories – ones that felt heavy, but not overwhelming. As his nervous system began to regulate, we moved to the deeper wounds: abandonment, shame, and fear.

After just four sessions, his transformation was startling. The explosive outbursts vanished. He began expressing himself more clearly. He re-entered school, finished his final term, and – to my delight – I later heard he’d gone on to university. Not because he’d learnt to behave, but because he’d learnt to heal.

Francine Shapiro’s meta-analytic work on EMDR highlights its particular effectiveness not just in alleviating PTSD symptoms, but in improving broader emotional outcomes such as anger and depression. The reprocessing of maladaptively stored memories in younger clients often leads to swift behavioural transformation, supporting the view that EMDR may be especially potent during formative developmental stages.

Francine Shapiro’s meta-analytic work on EMDR highlights its particular effectiveness not just in alleviating PTSD symptoms, but in improving broader emotional outcomes such as anger and depression. The reprocessing of maladaptively stored memories in younger clients often leads to swift behavioural transformation, supporting the view that EMDR may be especially potent during formative developmental stages.

Bitterness in a Hoodie

Some anger doesn’t arrive in thunder. Sometimes it sits in the corner wearing a hoodie and muttering one-word answers. That was Helen. She had cancer, yes. But what she really had was a festering sense of unfairness and betrayal – and a sister who insisted she see me.

We didn’t talk about cancer. We talked about dogs. Builders. EastEnders. Slowly, humour became our therapy co-pilot. When she trusted me enough to try EMDR, her bitterness began to loosen. She didn’t have to fight anymore. Not herself. Not the world. Not even me.

While there is less research specifically on EMDR and medical trauma, clinicians are increasingly reporting benefits in applying EMDR to emotional distress caused by health diagnoses. The mechanism of action remains the same – trauma is trauma, regardless of its trigger – and the capacity for EMDR to bring relief in such cases is promising, though further research is needed (Fisher, 2017).

Curiosity Over Control

When someone walks into my room radiating fury, I don’t flinch. I get curious. Anger is a story with a nervous system for a narrator. EMDR is the translator.

In this work, we don’t wrestle anger into submission. We listen. We trace its roots. We meet the moments when safety was lost and offer the nervous system a rewrite.

And yes, we laugh. Because sometimes healing isn’t stoic – it’s snorting tea through your nose after realising your rage at your partner leaving the milk out was actually about your dad never showing up.

This isn’t just therapy. It’s liberation. It’s less about fixing what’s wrong and more about remembering what’s right. About coming home to yourself – minus the bouncer.

Written by Tracey Brittain

EMDR Practitioner | Trauma Whisperer | Researcher

References

Shapiro, F. (2014) ‘The role of eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) therapy in medicine: Addressing the psychological and physical symptoms stemming from adverse life experiences’, The Permanente Journal, 18(1), pp. 71–77.

Crimson Publishers (2022) ‘Effectiveness of Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing in Reducing Aggressive and Externalising Behaviours’, Crimson Publishers Journal of Psychology and Behavioural Science, 15(4), pp. 215–223.

Bae, H., Kim, D. and Park, Y.C. (2020) ‘Effects of EMDR on trait anger and anxiety in patients with major depressive disorder’, Journal of EMDR Practice and Research, 14(1), pp. 1–10.

Fisher, J. (2017) Healing the fragmented selves of trauma survivors: Overcoming internal self-alienation. New York: Routledge.

Solomon, R.M. and Shapiro, F. (2008) ‘EMDR and the adaptive information processing model: Potential mechanisms of change’, Journal of EMDR Practice and Research, 2(4), pp. 315–325.

Ho, M.S. and Lee, C.W. (2020) ‘A comparative meta-analysis of EMDR and TF-CBT in the treatment of PTSD’, Psychological Medicine, 50(11), pp. 1835–1845.

Lee, C.W. and Cuijpers, P. (2013) ‘A meta-analysis of the contribution of eye movements in processing emotional memories’, Journal of Behaviour Therapy and Experimental Psychiatry, 44(2), pp. 231–239.