Too cross to continue my meditation on managing anger…
No doubt I will have recovered myself shortly and then I will compose Part II. In the meantime you can rest assured that at least I am not bullshitting away on here day in day and day out; or, in other words, I do know a little about whereof I write.
Me and anger have been on first name terms for a long time. I used to find it an all-encompassing vehicle for emotional expression.
Feel sad? Be angry
Feel hurt? Be angry
Feel rejected? Be angry
Of course this kind of high octane living was unsustainable. You can’t resolve everything by shouting and shaking your fist; or indeed throwing things and smashing crockery, however good it might feel to release some of the emotional energy in the moment.
What the person who gets angry has to accept is that other people find such voluble acts of emotion frightening. So you may get the thing off your own chest in some fashion, but at the same time you damage not just property but your relationships with others.
By the way this is not a lecture. I know well the feelings of anger that bubble up in one’s gut as a physical response to a challenging situation. What I have learnt over the years is that those physical feelings do not have to drive my behaviour. I have found out the hard way admittedly, but as I see my eldest daughter struggle to manage her quick temper in much the same way I have, I hope that a little of what I have picked up can benefit her, sooner rather than later.
Blood pressure having returned to nearly normal I will resume.
Bearing in mind this: that if I had not called they would merrily have commenced fleecing me by Direct Robbery next month.
So someone answered the phone in the call centre eventually and I explained my problem and she said that this had all been launched by some (deluded) colleague in Sheffield. This must be on the script entitled
What to say when some mug punter rings up to report unwanted insurance policies not taken out viz dogs, teeth, phones, lives etc.
Whatever, I said, I don’t want it.
The script said Even though we will generously shove you 75 whole sterling pounds a night if you are ever tragically and accidentally in hospididddle for up to 9 whole miserable but enriching months?
Even if. I said. I don’t WANT it.
The script replied Even if we dramatically cut the monthly premium from the £7.98 quoted in your unsolicited letter to a paltry £3.99 – right here, right now???
I will admit to a pause here. I listened to a bit of Fat Boy Slim in my head. Could this be value?
But the script proceeded …for the first six months whereafter we will reinstate the original premium quoted you lucky but likelytosoonlosealimb in a horrible accident divbrain.
I am trying not to do my best Tourette’s inspired swearing by this point, but I said, no I still don’t want it. Not interested, not ever going to have an accident. I am a careful person what risk assesses everyTHING and won’t even get on a plane in case the pilot has a bad hair day.
Undeterred scripted chat continues:Even when we are offering to just give you the first three months Free Gratis, not paying a penny and then you can cancel our arses after the period. Although our business models project a good proportion of you dumb consumers will just forget all about it and will pay out via the Direct Robber scheme and live to 80 with no accidental hospitalisation. Ever.
By now I am looking for a cliff to jump off. How many ways? I didn’t ask for it not never and I don’t bloody want it neither. See how I had to resort to double negatives squared there, in the hope this might override the script?
Ok she says (the script) I quite understand. But before I go I have to put down the REASON you don’t want it.
or the Consumer as a Cash Cow but, moo, at least twice as bovine.
I used to have anger management issues, but I’m fine now. Well more or less. It is best described as “losing it” temporarily. For any bystanders I am aware it is pretty loud and unpleasant and perhaps scary and therefore not at all desirable. So I keep a lid on it. For myself it is experienced as hot rage that makes your heart pound and your blood rush as well as the raising of volume and the flinging of things. So, it’s just as well it doesn’t happen much at all any more. An outburst, a proper outburst, is probably a quarterly occurence with mini-blips in-between.
So having worked so hard on this it does not please me when my blood starts rushing and I get all hot and want to shout on account of a letter from my car insurance company that says:
Re: Your Personal Accident Insurance Policy Thank you for taking this out with us…
We now have pleasure in enclosing your policy documents…
As we are giving you the first 3 months FREE…the first monthly premium will be deducted automatically by Direct Debit…
I was expecting a renewal document from them anyway for the car, but not this. I have not asked for this insurance and what they have done is transferred my banking details from my car insurance onto a new document I didn’t ask for and called it a Direct Debit. So obviously I had to call them, and the way the conversation unfolded has made my blood boil, literally.
So when I have cooled down I might manage to type the rest, but before I do let me just say this.
I know I didn’t ask for this damn insurance policy because most insurance is a bloody scam and consumers are just frightened or browbeaten into paying for nefarious policies for everything from mobile phones to false teeth, all of which keeps the bloated insurance industry afloat when they are just a bunch of bandits. And you should go and cancel every policy that is not strictly necessary or required by law and see how it doesn’t affect your life and how much more money you have to use more wisely.