It all happened so fast, one minute you were walking down an alley to reach your car, the next you were smashing your boot into the face of a stranger who tried to rob you.

As their blood splatters all over the brick walls you could only think about what your therapist, Christopher, would say. You had been making such wonderful progress in controlling your anger and now you were back to square one.

As the thief goes limp and falls quiet, you pull your phone out of your pocket and call him to break the news. Keeping it brief and vague while over the phone, he knows you well enough to understand what you mean when you tell him you relapsed. Big time.

Without a word he hangs up, leading you to believe he has given up on you, but twenty minutes or so later you see his car skid to a halt down the alley.

He exits the vehicle and marches towards you with an intense expression, one you'd never seen on him before. Before you can say a word he just rolls his sleeves up and speaks firmly.

"You grab the arms, I'll grab the legs. Don't argue with me let's just go."