I spent the end of the week steeped in anger. I was angry because my internet provider was being unsatisfactory. It was affecting my work, and it had the potential to get expensive. So when my ISP - of whom I shall write about in another post - I snapped. And in an effort to lessen the impact of this post, I shall grace it with a picture of my sleeping tomcat.
I wanted to go into another long diatribe about why I got angry and how it felt to let all of that anger out into one very loud and, personally, quite frightening explosion...but I won't. Honestly, I'm at that point in the day where just thinking about the events of the day is enough to tire me out, both mentally and physically. Normally I wouldn't have any trouble just streams-of-consciousness typing this post, but I am currently having trouble just figuring out what to type next in this paragraph.
In other words, the stream's blocked. I'm trying to think of a sci-fi pop culture reference to this, but all I could think of is Scotty telling Kirk that he was giving it all he's got, but that expression just doesn't fit here, does it.
This I will tell you, though. I try very, very hard not to get angry despite the alarmingly myriad stressors we face every day. Some people navigate these waters deftly, swinging from mild annoyance to clear-headed bliss one moment to the next. Now before some of you call these people dissociatives or psychopaths, the likelihood is far bigger that they're not. These folks just happen to be wired in such a way that they are able to compartmentalize their anger into a barrel with a spigot that allows them to unleash all that wrath in controlled amounts. In this manner, they are able to dole out cupfuls of their anger when the situation calls for it, and then are able to reign it in after it's done, like a well-trained Pavlovian dog.
Then there are others who don't have that spigot. What they have, instead, is a pressure chamber continuously filling with all that accumulated anger, and a low, low simmering flame underneath gently bumping up the numbers in that Bourdon gauge until BLAM! The pressure's punched a hole through the chamber and the steam's screaming out, burning anyone within the vicinity. These guys would do nicely with a pressure release valve on top of their pressure chambers, but oddly there isn't one to be found, and the only way out for all that pent up anger is through. And when it does, oh boy, you better get away because you're going to get burnt one way or the other.
I'm that latter part, in case you're not following the narrative of this piece. I'm the guy who figuratively blows his top off when it's just too goddamn much.
And the ironic thing is, all that anger rarely solves anything. It just feels nice to get it all out. It (erroneously) paints us as the victims - unless the circumstances are that we are, indeed, the victims, it should be said - and it makes us feel all superior over whoever or whatever we are angry at at the moment. There is nothing more primordially gratifying than attaining the moral high ground over anybody we perceive as our inferiors, and explosive, uncontrollable anger gives us that by subduing the more level-headed emotions of the individuals we perceive to be against us. There's an innate need for humans - or at least for Filipinos - to placate individuals or creatures beside themselves in grief and wrath, and one of the most basic ways of doing this is by allowing ourselves to be subdued by the more dominant emotion. And the folks who are angry, whether instinctively or otherwise, are able to catch a whiff of this meekness and capitalize on that.
But prolonged explosive anger is rarely beneficial in the long run, and can pretty much become as debilitating to the one who is angry as it can be to the target of anger. For example, after several of my furious tirades last Friday, I found that I had lost the will to do anything else, and essentially wasted my day arguing with non-entities connected to my Internet service provider. I ended the day with a massive headache and an inability to concentrate, which left me bereft of any will to work whatsoever. Not only was my explosive anger debilitating, it also sapped my will to get anything done, essentially wasting an entire day. And this isn't even touching on the many other things that this type of anger can cause, such as elevated heart rate and blood pressure, which can lead to heart failure and strokes.
Now, I'm not saying that we shouldn't ever be angry. Anger, when used purposefully, strategically, and within reason, does get things done. I don't see everybody ever being able to control their anger as well as the ones who are able to can - I know I certainly won't, ever - but maybe there's a way to manage this healthily, for both everybody else's sakes, and for ours. After all, unreasonable anger is something that should not be tolerated by civil society.
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