On a scale of 1 to 10, how much fear do you associate with hearing the following three statements from a doctor?
- You have multiple sclerosis. It’s not terminal, but you will eventually be confined to a wheelchair.
- You are showing signs of early-stage dementia.
- You have late-stage cancer with perhaps six months to get your affairs in order.
Even if you had the same level of fear for all three questions, the idea of rating your fear on a scale probably didn’t surprise you. Fear is not an on or off emotion, rather it’s a spectrum. It’s even in our language when we say we feel “a little” or “very” afraid. The highest end of that spectrum is uncontrolled fear often described as terror or panic. Perhaps the most descriptive word is fearful, as in full of fear.
Anger is also a spectrum and it’s directly proportional to the spectrum of fear. An emotionally healthy person uses controlled fear to evaluate a situation and determine the level of danger, and then uses the proportional level of anger in order to be safe. For example, if someone represents a mild threat to your safety, you will likely experience a controlled level of fear that could be described as feeling cautious. The situation could be as subtle as being encouraged to do something you don’t want to do, and a simple but firm “no” may suffice. It may not feel like anger, but it’s the same kind of energy, just on the low end of the spectrum.
If the threat is more significant, the fear may be experienced as feeling nervous or anxious and you will respond more forcefully. If you’re alone or in unfamiliar surroundings, the hair on the back of your neck will stand up and your sense of hearing and sight will become more acute. A higher level of anger is needed in order to feel safe, so you may find yourself walking faster and no longer hungry, even if you were tired and famished just moments ago. If you’re carrying something like an umbrella, your grip will become noticeably stronger in case you need a weapon. The greater the fear, the greater the anger. The highest levels of anger are typically expressed as fury or rage.
In stress management terms, the above physiological changes are due to 132 chemicals in your body being reordered in response to a stressor. The blood is redirected from your internal organs to your extremities in preparation for possible fight or flight. If the stressor is a traumatic event, that chemical change is labeled post-traumatic stress, and it’s actually a good thing as long as it’s temporary. If the threat dissipates, the chemicals will go back to their natural state, which usually takes 24-48 hours after a traumatic event. If another traumatic event happens in that time frame, the chemicals aren’t allowed to go back to their original order, resulting in post-traumatic stress disorder or PTSD.
Those chemical changes create increased vigor and a greater sense of vigilance. Responding with appropriate expressions of anger allow us to create boundaries that protect ourselves and others. The positive aspects of fear and anger are hidden gifts, according to social scientist Karla McLaren.
As McLaren notes in her book, The Language of Emotions, fear is accompanied by this internal question: What action must be taken? Ignoring or repressing that question will likely lead to constant worries or anxieties that decrease your focus and clarity. You can control the fear by claiming it as your ability to hyper-focus and discern what is dangerous. By trusting your intuition, you can act consciously and intentionally.
Anger is accompanied by another internal question: What must be protected or restored? Ignoring or repressing that question can lead to enmeshment, apathy, and depression. Conversely, responding to the perceived threat with a disproportionate level of anger (that is, overreacting) can lead to cycling rage that creates unreasonable boundaries, hatred, and prejudice, often resulting in isolation or harming others who are not part of the threat. The healthy response is to claim the gift of anger by channeling its intensity into creating appropriate boundaries, protecting you and your relationships.
Let’s go back to the questions at the beginning of this post. Being diagnosed with a crippling or life-threatening disease will trigger a certain amount of fear. How you respond to that fear will depend on several factors, including your overall resilience, the balance of chemicals in your body at the time, and whether or not you have a good support system.
It is not uncommon for someone receiving multiple medical diagnoses to show symptoms of PTSD. The trauma of the medical diagnoses can be compounded by the trauma of betrayal, such as an adult child not honoring a parent’s advance directive. As with a combat soldier under repeated attacks, a first responder called to consecutive emergencies, or a domestic abuse victim unable to escape the perpetrator, the chemicals simply don’t have time to reset. The new normal becomes a constant state of fear.
If I’m diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, late-stage cancer, or early-stage dementia, it would be reasonable to fear the progression of the disease and everything that comes with it. If I think a family member might impose extraordinary measures that keep my body alive against my will, I might have to use the energy of controlled anger to give a friend or even a stranger my power of attorney in order to ensure that my end-of-life wishes are honored. If my loved ones or caregivers complain that I’m angry, they may be right. The hidden gifts of fear and anger will help me to firmly enforce my boundaries and claim my right to a death with dignity.
This all deals with the immediate fear of death of dementia, but when someone like me has kidney disease and has been diagnosed with the need of dialysis and death in ten years, then the situation is different.
Fear is often the response to first learning of a disease even if it is not necessarily terminal, although it may be on the low end of the spectrum and thus could express simply as feely uneasy or unsure. If you had a proportionate response, such as completing or updating an advance care directive rather than screaming at the doctor, you were able to use controlled anger. At least that’s what I think McLaren would probably say.
PTSD does not always result in more “vigor.” Those in situations from which there is no escape may end up in the freeze response not able to take action. One would think that doesn’t include medical situations but it does. I wonder how many continue on to death in a state of PTSD that is the freeze response, unable to even try to fight for themselves.
You’re absolutely correct. The increased vigor is the normal physiological response to a threat, but a person with PTSD may have been in a heightened state for so long that fatigue prevents the ability to fight or flee.
A person following the stoic tradition would do everything possible to learn the “reality” of their situation: treatment options, mortality rate, etc. Second, the Stoic would focus on practical, common-sense medical advice, rather than obsessing about worst-case, gloom-and-doom scenarios. The words of a few ancient stoics may help understand this approach to life:
Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens. – Epictetus
There is only one way to happiness, and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power of our will. – Epictetus
The universe is change; our life is what our thoughts make it. You have power over your mind – not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength. – Marcus Aurelius
As I’ve grown older and seen the decline of parents, friends, and others, I have been prepared personally for bad health news and seem to take it with equanimity, even when it is life-threatening. This doesn’t mean giving up, but being realistic. I have observed this same attitude in friends at various ages, who take what health measures have a chance at prolonging life, but accepting the eventual outcome when there is nothing, realistically, left to do.
Thank you, Lamar, for sharing those quotations. I love the Stoics, perhaps especially Marcus Aurelius. I find that much of Stoic thought is also found in the I Ching of Taoism.
With the exception that Christians, Jews, and Muslims also rely on Jesus, God, or Allah, respectivelty, as a source of strength, is there anything in these statements that contradict the world’s three great monotheistic faith traditions?