Articulacy and the lack thereof

A common compliment that I've had (probably the most common, I would say, although that's not saying much) is that I'm articulate.

I always wonder what exactly that means. On a surface level, I think I know. Asking Google brings up the following:

ar·tic·u·late/ärˈtikyəlit/

Adjective:	(of a person or a person's words) Having or showing the ability to speak fluently and coherently.
Verb:	Express (an idea or feeling) fluently and coherently: "they were unable to articulate their emotions".

So now I'm uncertain once more. I can talk, sure, but am I good at expressing how I feel? I don't think so. One thing that strikes me - with deep irony - is that whenever I am in a greatly emotional state or situation, my supposed 'articulateness' fades fast. I spoonerise, I miss out words or phrases, I say the opposite of what I meant, I struggle to complete a sentence... and when it's really intense, I simply revert to an animal state where I want to howl, weep and/or throw things.

Currently, I feel angry and hurt, but I couldn't tell you why. This raises further issues: am I inarticulate and unable to express these feelings because on some level, I know that they're fleeting, reactive and irrational? Or is it because they are precisely the opposite - unlike the usual generally-carefully-considered output, these come from somewhere deeper and more primal?

Nothing can ever be straightforward - even ' losing my voice' prompts a return to questions of identity and selfhood. Do I, with my ambiguous family background and current romantic situation (having a partner who many would think is the absolute bees' knees), have the 'right' to be angry? Am I just being petulant and bratty, hence a regression to childlike inarticulacy, or is there something more here, linked to how often I have had to self-censor, retreat and silence or be silenced in the past?

My eyes and head are throbbing. I wish I knew.