23
Oct
09

Anger Managment for humans – Part One

I read some notes on a guy, whose concerned doctor had said, Mr “I’ve hit the red button”, was angered by a particular incident.  It involved being at a swimming bath and getting angry about not having lanes.  I don’t know much about that, but I think they italian’s call it “just tell the jerk to go home” syndrome.  People do act up, on little issues, but we do know our boundaries – I have  that belief.  He must have felt a jerk at some stage, so everything is okay…right?

I get angry and regret it.  Anger happens.  We get pissed off.

However – just a question, do some people get angry and don’t regret it?  If thats the case, then I’m wrong.  I don’t know the answer.  I give up…for now.

I argue with my partner, usually because we both misunderstand one another.  We live with it and hope the other one will figure it out somehow.  Its always left in the air – we argue, nothing gets resolved and we’re okay either overnight or in a few hours…whatever cycle you call that.

I wanted to be able to say, I bite my tongue.  Sometimes you snap.  I think for me anyhow, anger is born out of a frustration.  Men call it hysterical.

I need to think about the torrent of emotion that it pours out of you, its very out there.  Your ability to say things is very pronounced.  Almost as if this gush of words is an mental explosion, of the unresolved pig sty of frustration,  Words Rattle out like a empty machine gun.  Awful metaphor, but the onslaught of subjecting people to that type of “energy” must make a person feel shite.  Its not nice being shouted at or moaned at etc etc..

Must be about feeling shit about yourself again….


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IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
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