One of the things I have found particularly helpful in dealing with my anger and shame brought about by sexual maltreatment and abuse I have experienced throughout my life is to recognize when I am being triggered, notify my spouse that I have been triggered, and promptly set about coping.
As you may have caught by now, my husband and I have a fun, humorous relationship, though we take serious matters quite seriously. We know that God has a sense of humor, because after all, he created the Duck-billed Platypus. So, we set about to find an appropriate "code word," if you will, to help us both recognize in public situations, when I am experiencing a sexual trauma trigger.
We settled on "bottle rocket." That describes the hot, angry and this could result in me ending up behind bars kind of feeling that get which I have to quickly recognize and contain or else it will land on the roof and burn the whole house down kind of thing. Of course, you have to practice at it so that you aren't confronted, which results in taking away all of the personal power.
This went seriously wrong for me when I went for my post operative check-up with my oncologist who performed my laproscopic hysterectomy. I thought of saying "bottle rocket" when he asked where my fifth incision was (where were you when you were supposed to be performing this surgery?) but reserved it for when he unannounced and without permission, invited a male intern to watch as he lifted my top...
Before he could get to breast level, I rustled out "bottle rocket." My darling husband who seems to be losing his hearing at critical moments, was having trouble hearing what I was saying, so I nearly screamed it. BOTTLE ROOOOOOCKET!
Shockingly, the oncologist had the nerve to smile at me very condescendingly and ask what it was I had said to my husband?!? I resisted the shirt rising to breast level like a dog during a game of tug-of-war as I told him it was an inside joke (clearly, he wouldn't have understood).