I used to get angry a lot, but I realized something about anger one day that pretty much cured me of it in a snap. What I realized was that I got angry because (a) I was hurt and (b) couldn’t really do anything about it. The anger was an expression of impotence. The one thing I could do about what had hurt me was rant about it. No sooner had I realized that than I asked myself, “Why bother?” It didn’t do any good. And it felt awful. There is nothing pleasant about feeling angry. Of course, there’s nothing pleasant about feeling hurt, either, but if you face up to the discomfort, it fades after a while. Anger just prolongs it, like picking at a scab.
I think that summarizes what I've learned about dealing with my own anger, though I never really put it into words. I wouldn't say that I've learned to suppress my anger, but I have learned the uselessness of it and I work hard to limit my expressing it. And I do my best to get over it very quickly.
My children may disagree with my assessment on this, however.