I have practically never seen it work, not during my observations in therapy or in personal life.

Even on rare occasions where it seems to work in the moment, yielding some win-loss resolution, it never works sustainably. Peace can never be found on a shaky and fake foundation of emotional tyranny. As humorist Kin Hubbard said, “nobody ever forgets where he buried a hatchet.”

Here are some strategies for dealing with difficult people, organized around the main psychological premises driving their anger: fear and need for control.

Disengage and don’t take it personally.

People are energy-conserving creatures. Just as most animals attack out of self-defense, hunger or other biological needs, human anger also is goal-driven. Most people, even most violent individuals, don’t walk around the majority of the day attacking and abusing others. They lash out in spurts.

Behind their violent shield, a threatening individual is feeling threatened — maybe not by you, but by something or someone. Their anger is related to you only in a way in which some action or expressed feeling of yours has triggered some discomforting emotion within them.

Threatening individuals commonly are overwhelmed and scared. Big bullies have deeply hurt and vulnerable cores. They are expending their toxic energy to produce their angry display as a distorted way to pursue some goal related to their personal sense of safety and significance. Even though the content may be channeled at you, the driving force behind it is related to their personality, upbringing, and prior experiences. Most of their accusations are based on subjective opinions and are very loosely, or not at all, related to you personally.

Avoid ego battles and rides to the past.

When it comes to aggression, an unfortunate point of difference between humans and less evolved mammals is the ego. Some people are willing to put their life on the line and injure another person physically or emotionally to protect their ego and restore their injured self-esteem. Inflated egos are most vulnerable to the slightest pokes and scratches, which is a common infliction of defensive and confrontational people.

Remember that ego injuries are always the deeds of the past. This is why the great focus of most angry people, when they are arguing, will be buried in the past. Therefore, at all costs, avoid accompanying them on their voyage there. Drain them by letting them give a monologue about their expired accusations. Avoid discussing with them about who did what, when and why, and how it made them feel, but repeatedly ask how they propose solving this problem now.

Remember also that most angry people have a victim mentality. They perpetually feel the world owes them something and other people must fulfill their preferences or needs. What angry people say is almost never factual but emotional in content, related to their fears, frustrations, and bruised ego. Attempting to talk with them almost always fails, as raging people are narrowly focused, entitled, and prone to listening only to themselves.

Choose calm and sanity.

An angry person is looking for a fight. Through their escalation and unfair accusations, they are asking you to engage. As Eric Hoffer said, “rudeness is the weak man’s imitation of strength.”

So, what is needed in the presence of a hot-headed person? A cool-headed person. The constructive response is not to indulge them in any action. When they shout, you keep silent or speak softly. When they come close, you increase the distance. When they say a lot, you say nothing or very little. Some people decide to respond, thinking that ignoring a provocation makes them lose and a bully to win. This is contrary to what actually happens. You win by disengaging. You become untouchable and gain control by increasing emotional and physical space.

Imagine this situation: You are on a road and the driver in front of you drives dangerously and erratically, swaying wildly sideways, speeding up and pressing the brakes, honking randomly. Should you catch up, open up your window and attempt a discussion on proper driving? Of course not. You shift lanes and drive away, quietly demonstrating your intelligence and preference for safety. De-escalate the angry person in a similar manner, by exiting the scene emotionally or physically, not participating in their drama.

Remember also that basic defenses of angry, self-justifying people are projection and denial. You tell them that they are scaring you with their shouting, they say you are the one yelling. You tell them their words are hurtful, they tell you that you told them things ten times worse, plus you are the one who made them angry to begin with. So, what are the ways to negotiate with reality distorters? The short answer is “there are none,” and the longer answer is, “There are none, don’t even try.”

Give out an imaginary cupcake.

Cupcakes are sweet , peaceful, calming and smile-inducing. Raging people often are in dire need of an imaginary cupcake. A big part of their anger is driven by their belief or feeling that they never get any or someone stole or damaged their cupcakes. So, generously give them one or even a couple, even when they seem to be undeserving of any sweetness.

Despite the obnoxious behavior, loud shouting, screeching voices, clenching fists, pointing fingers, red faces and all, most angry people have a sad message. Most likely they are trying to tell you that they are feeling hurt, ignored, disrespected, unappreciated and unloved.

Listening and responding to these needs calmly and emphatically can serve as the key to getting more cooperation from emotionally agitated people. Just say “I think I understand what is going on here, but feel free to correct me, my friend” and so on. Then offer some reflective listening, validating their concerns to an extent. Tell them something nice and peaceful. Agree with them in theory. Do not assign any blame or argue. Establish a basic premise for peace by appealing in some way to the dormant, healthy side of their personality by extending to them some sense of grace, validation, and acceptance.

Wham! Good quality No. 1: very funny.

He makes me laugh at things, at myself, and at him. He has that amazing ability to take himself seriously but not impose this attitude on others.

Boom! Bad quality No. 1: overly laid-back.

He can switch off his brain and tune out all of the short- and long-term worries that permanently reside in my mind. He can just lose himself in the cushiony softness of his favorite chair, stretch out his long legs, and listen to music or watch sports.

Meanwhile, droppings of recently removed clothing are collapsed on the floor, shaped like little, ready-to-erupt volcanoes. I usually pick them up, preventing lava spills — which of course stem from my fury, not from a wrinkled pair of jeans on the carpet. Parents of young children, we live in a permanent state of clutter. It triumphantly stares at us from all of the corners of our house. Actually, it mainly stares and winks at me, since I am the most likely person in the house to make eye contact with it. How can he just be sitting there like a Zen Buddhist? Maybe I am just jealous.

Racket swings back. Good quality No. 2: loves me and thinks I am cute and smart.

He picks the oddest times to tell me these nice things. He comments on my looks when I am still wearing my pajamas and have pillow traces on my face. Or he tells me that I am smart, knowing well my deadly flaw of often missing out on the crucial plot parts in a movie, so that he has to reexplain the whole story. Or he forgives the fact that I am directionally challenged.

In the 10 years of our marriage, he is the one to sort out maps, deal with furniture or toy assembly instructions, and handle numbers and other nasty perks of “adult paperwork.” Personally, I find these traits of mine annoying, not charming. But he does not. Clearly, a major swing in his favor.

Bang! Bad quality No. 2:

He postpones dealing with problems until they glare right at him. Or until I glare right in his eyes, stating the problems, raising the questions, and facilitating some crisis resolution plan. I guess it’s related to him being laid-back, so I don’t know if it counts as a separate point. Maybe I have to come up with something else, quickly, or the match swings in his favor, and I have to concede and apologize first.

However, instead of a quick comeback, another major observation streams into my consciousness, and ultimately makes me lose the match: He is a great dad. My kids follow him like little ducklings.

Together, they make up their own “knock knock” and other silly jokes and laugh hysterically at their dumb inventions. They also have their informal “members only” Peanut Butter/Jelly and Grilled Cheese sandwich club. Their sandwiches are made according to some specific “patented” method that makes it taste just right. I don’t know the method and could never nail the science of PBJ or grilled sandwich making.

Consequently, I am mostly allowed to observe and have a bite. Many little, simple, and silly daily things make them all happy. In return, it makes me happy too: eavesdropping on their jokes, watching them play games with secret rules, and getting over the existence of some “manly” secrets in my household, to which I am not privy. Great dad: a major point in his favor.

My ride is over. I almost miss my turn, busily summarizing the final count and getting over losing. At the same time, I am drained of my fury and no longer care to win.

Deep in my heart, I know that even if he were to lose at my imaginary battle, I would still keep him, and pick him all over again, despite and because of his bad points: His imperfections make him just perfect for me.

You got together with your life partner for many reasons: shared perspectives and outlooks, physical attraction, shared spirituality, shared professional lives, etc. But you also enjoyed one another’s company because it’s fun! In the beginning, you did not have much but each other, but it was enough. There were sweet words, long phone talks, walks and candlelit dinners. You had meaningful conversations, shared your dreams and goals, planned your future together.

What is your relationship like today? Does it still include fun times and romance? Or have you resorted to talking about and handling chores and responsibilities related to children, career and other duties of adult life?

When fun leaves a relationship, it can be a sign that the relationship is heading toward the rocks. Fun is a part of life and it’s definitely a part of any healthy relationship. It’s something that brought you together, made you want to stay with each other. It is something that helps you stay together, survive life’s hardships and forgive each other in bitter moments.

When life gets difficult, it puts a heavy weight on your scale of marital balance, dragging it down. Good times together is the weight that you put on the other side of the scale, to give you a much-needed internal lift. It helps you put things in perspective, balance it out and feel good about yourself, your partner, and your life together.

The way you and your significant other define fun is up to you, but it’s important to keep doing it even as your relationship matures. Love to dance but haven’t been in years? It’s time to make a new dance date. Liked watching movies together, but haven’t made time to do it in months (or years)? Pick a night and head to a theater or rent a movie. Have dinner in a restaurant or cook a meal together at home.

Remember that in our most bitter moments, what we crave is some sweetness. In the midst of busyness and stress, we desperately desire lighthearted fun and relaxing moments. You don’t have to wait till things get tough to consider bringing fun back into your life.

Nor do you have to wait for a special day, like a birthday or Valentine’s Day, to become romantic and create special memories for the two of you. Do these things for you, for your spouse, for both of you as a family every day, starting now. If you’ve noticed that your family bank of fun is depleted, begin depositing happy tokens today.

In search of a connecting dialogue, they’ve come to a marriage counselor. Unfortunately, their initial therapy session ended up as a triumph of assumptions and accusations. So much was said in that hour that the distance between them felt insurmountable. It was a tragedy of total misunderstanding and disconnect.

She was talking with agitation and intensity as if she had some invisible “keep going” sign in front of her. Words were fast and sharp. Sentences poured out and linked into paragraphs without intermissions. One could sense despair, frustration, and pain. However, with the air in the room boiled by fury, her spouse could not connect, feeling spooked and terrified. She was shouting, reminding him about every way she had been wronged and failed by him. As if living in such agonizing circumstances was not bad enough, she was adding to their mutual pain by reliving each moment of his perceived transgressions in high volume and with screeching pitch. Her narrative was filled with acute judgement and accusations. Her mood, dark and powerful as a tornado, spread its dangerous swirls around him. All he could do was freeze and silently pray for safety.

Finally, she was drained of her anger. There was a brief pause in her intense monologue. He shyly took it as a cue for a conversation entry. He began talking, trying to explain his point of view, and perhaps apologize. However, after only a few seconds of listening, her face gained a peculiar look, the way you may look at your domesticated feline who just missed his litter box and made a mess on the floor: “I know this is what you cats do once in a while, but hey, shouldn’t you know better?”

This implicit judgement was subtle enough that she could not be called on it, yet it was tangible and impossible for him to overlook. The feelings that she silently conveyed were not lost on him: it was contempt infused with condescending love. This toxic mixture stopped him from talking.

He began examining the brownish hues of my office carpet with intensity, as if some mystical answer — the cure for all of his marital ambiguities — was right there in front of him in the acrylic threads. It was clear that he was done apologizing and explaining. He no longer felt safe.

More accusations and self-serving claims were delivered in the remaining hour by both partners. There were also threats to leave the room, exit the relationship, and fire the counselor for the lack of effective interventions. If I did not know any better, I would think that I was visited by Shrek and the Wicked Witch of the West; that their problem is they belong to different tales, and the only solution is to release them to their separate kingdoms in search of a better match. But they were not mystical creatures. They were honest, caring people who occasionally shouted loudly and forgot to listen. People who loved each other but felt hurt and stuck.

Many lines were crossed in that single hour so it felt it could not get any worse. It was good in some way: Having reached the threshold of interactional nastiness, yet desiring to stay together, left these two with no other choice but to figure out how to improve. Being in dire need of mediation, therapy was a timely intervention for them.

Some people think that therapists are for those who don’t know what to do. On the contrary, therapy can be very helpful to those who are quite knowledgeable and intelligent. Feeling overwhelmed and frustrated makes them overly focus on their own violated needs and sense of hurt and ignore their partners’. As a result, many couples struggle with stating problems clearly, putting blame and emotions aside, and begin to dialogue constructively and create solutions.

The couple scenario was an example of a simple but commonly forgotten thing: In conversation, the main goal is to repair and connect, not to accuse and blame. Verbal expression is good for healing, but can be a means of diversion. Words can be carrots as well as sticks. They can connect or break relationships. The same goes for your body language: We can communicate things to others without words. The way you position your body toward or away from your partner, your facial expressions, movement of your hands can all be silent yet powerful communication tools.

There was no resolution for this couple at war during their first few visits. But there was increased exhaustion, multiplied regrets, and a growing desire to stop hurting and make things better. These items did not complete the needed relationship repair toolkit, but they were good enough to start. Too tired to fight and play against each other, I hope their questions will increasingly include more of “we” and “us” reflections: What makes us suffer? What makes us better? How do we change? When it comes to “I” and “me” statements, I hope the search for self-justice will include more of: What is it that I wish my partner understood about me and my needs, and how can I communicate this better?

Maybe it was the complicated nature of the question or just the wrong timing (dinner), but we managed to get into a long discussion that culminated in an argument. An hour overdue, banana bread in the oven interrupted us with its burnt smell.

I don’t even know if I want to have more children, but I have been plagued by the question the last few months. We have two.

They are at the age where I can forget about buying mountains of diapers, carrying ten pounds of baby paraphernalia anywhere I go and performing the never-ending gymnastics of helping my kids with every move they make. I am finally becoming just a tad more relaxed, relearning the joy of adult company, uninterrupted conversation and eating meals using both of my hands. After years of being homebound, we’ve taken some fun trips and vacations.

It’s a slow transition from complete chaos toward some Zen moments. I don’t know what prompts me to revisit the idea of procreating some more, volunteering for another few years of a tenfold increase in stress. Is it my genuine desire to have more kids or succumbing to the pressure of the much-discussed-in-the-media factor of declining female fertility, that after a certain point, makes family expansion an urgent, “now or never” kind of an issue?

My husband, a logical and practical person, appears to have an intact memory of what it was like dealing with pregnancy, midnight feedings and diaper changes. He has reminded me of the sleepless nights, drawers full of diapers and formula, no vacations, and other paybacks for having small children. “Do you remember how unaccompanied trips to Target were like a vacation, the only way to get a break and some quiet time?” he said, desperately trying to retrieve my memory and penetrate some reality below the surface of my brain. I’ve appeared to use mostly the right side of my brain, talking of the sweet baby smell and the warm feeling of snuggling with a tiny body.

What is it about moms that seems to wipe out most of the pains we go through during pregnancy and baby time, wanting to do it again? Why do we often consider another round as soon as a child is out of diapers? Maybe it’s the biology or the social pressure that defines what moms ought to have and to be, implanting in our brains the notion of that statistical average of having 2+ kids, a house in the suburbs and becoming a soccer mom and a wonderwoman.

We talked about our dilemma some more the following day, reaching the decision to get rid of the countless neatly labeled boxes full of baby clothes and toys. They are going to be re-used by other families, not us. My husband said that he wants to spend his time and energy raising our already existing children, giving them our undivided attention and resources. He is heavily vested in spending time with them: feeding, playing, teaching, driving around and dealing with their insomnia and sick moments. Thus, he deserves to be heard. It was the decision that made sense to us, right for our family. How did you make yours, knowing when your family is complete?