Sunday, January 22, 2012

When The Red Mist Descendeth O'er Mine Eyes

Perhaps you wouldn't know it to look at me, or read the words I type (which apparently some of you are, in fact, doing), but good God I can get mad. If going from Zero to Psycho was an Olympic sport, I would be on a 1970s East German Track Star level. We call it the "Red Mist Descending," when I get so angry that I cannot see, hear, or function.

This is quite alarming, because I'm not really an agitated person in general. Kami, however, is as serene as a country lake. This only serves to agitate me further. And after one of these episodes, when Kami says, "Now what purpose does THAT serve?" Well, you can imagine what that does to the Rage.

Inanimate objects get it the worst. When I was putting laundry in the washing machine (something for which I am currently on probation - more on that later), I bent down to get a sock that had wriggled out of my clutches, and the lid fell down on my hand. I beat that washing machine like it was Inanimate Fight Club.

I've kicked the refrigerator, dropped a hambone on the toaster, punched the corner of the cabinet, I routinely draw blood on the steering wheel - and I know everyone says that their town has the worst drivers, but none of you have anything on Nashville drivers. If there is precipitation on the road, everyone acts as though they're driving a convoy through Baghdad, and have to ride the bumper of the person in front of them to the point of laughable ridiculousness.

Do any of these things help? Absolutely not. Do any of these things make me feel better? Of course not. Is Kami right? Of course she is. Hitting something inanimate only hurts my animated being, which only enrages me further. It's something I have tried to, not just control, but actively keep from Kami. No one wants to be married to a knuckle-dragging mouth-breather; and who especially wants to pro-create with one? The risk in this strategy is that I bottle it up, until I run out of toothpaste, and burst into tears.

So now that I find myself less than six months from having a baby who is undoubtedly going to do things that will irritate me, I absolutely have to rein this crap in. Some strategies that I came up with:

1. No more listening to the radio. Only Yanni.
2. Lavender air-freshener in the car.
3. Lavender stuffed in my shirt collars, so that it's all I smell, thus calming me down.
4. Stop talking to people.
5. Stop driving.
6. Stop following the news.

None of these are viable options, except for #2. And #3 - that's something I will explore this coming weekend.

I went over to the American Psychological Association's website, and read "Controlling Anger Before It Controls You," with a picture of a gentleman in a black tank top surrounded by a chain link fence, with him gripping his head, teeth clenched. From the evidence presented, he is in prison. Enclosed not just by the walls of a penitentiary, but also by his own anger - which he can apparently still not control.

One of the things the electronic brochure addresses is whether or not it's okay to "let it all hang out." The answer, you can probably guess, is "No." It is not acceptable to "let your anger rip." Anything that involves letting your anger do anything is unacceptable.

So here's what the APA says to do:

Breathe deeply, from your diaphragm; breathing from your chest won't relax you. Picture your breath coming up from your "gut."

My gut is to the point where it does not need quotation marks - I'm well aware of where it is. I like this one. It's a keeper. Of course, my "gut" is a cause of stress in my life, which is something I need to avoid. Still, not a bad start.

Slowly repeat a calm word or phrase such as "relax," "take it easy." Repeat it to yourself while breathing deeply.

I don't think I'll be doing this one, unless the calm word or phrase is, "Sweet pickles, take this away from me," in a shrill voice. That way, if someone asks what I'm doing, I can say "It's the only thing keeping me from poking you in the eyes." Which would make me laugh, thus feeling better.

Use imagery; visualize a relaxing experience, from either your memory or your imagination.

This could work, too. The most relaxing thing I can think of is when I got in that bar fight in Cayman, and broke a bottle over a Russian's head. So when I start to get angry at the bagels, I can think of dropping that Russian like 3rd period French, and all will be right in the world.

Nonstrenuous, slow yoga-like exercises can relax your muscles and make you feel much calmer.

No, see the point is to find something quickly, to repeal the Red Mist. I'm not going to do yoga in the car. Maybe that's what everyone in Nashville on I-40 is doing when it's raining, leading to a wreck that backs up traffic to Jackson.

So the winner is breathing exercises. My gut is readily available, and is full of air to calm down.

There are other strategies, including one on "changing your scenario." The example given is that, if your child's dirty room makes you mad, just shut the door. Seeing as how this doesn't address the issue of why the child's room is dirty, and is a fairly easy way out - with no breathing, dream sequences, or yoga, I'm more inclined to say that this brochure is ridiculous in nature, and I'm totally fine.

Problem solved. Now to focus on my breathing...

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