Anger, its management, its migrainous​ echo

Last nights little enjoyment getting home got me rather annoyed, and as we all know ‘rather annoyed’ by my meaning is:

I wasn’t as bad as I once was — much more reasonable — and I think, on the whole, I handled the situation admirably. I was fully calm, with no repeat explosions, within 3 hours.

The trigger was the delayed 1712. It’s always delayed. Never an explanation, and of course yesterday was no exception. I just wanted to get home. I pay £98 a month for the privilege of getting everywhere late, it seems. I do not like being late. I am a timings man — everything needs to happen as agreed. There are situations when I’ll make an allowance but unfortunately going home isn’t one of them.

My interaction with SWR’s ^RN, I feel, was suitable for the service received. I think it’s poor show to use busyness as an excuse for threadbare performance. It’s not an excuse I could’ve used at the funeral home. “I’m sorry I missed you at the front door but there are so many people wanting for funerals that some of them get missed.”

Whilst on board the train, and whilst stopping and starting and getting nowhere, I kept my cool. I didn’t necessarily keep quiet but I kept my mumblings to a whisper. An actual whisper. Usually, I whisper and the whole room hears. And because there was nothing I could do about the delay I endeavoured to succumb to acceptance. I didn’t really accept but I endeavoured, and to try is all that’s asked.

Once I was off the train and out of the annoyance, I began to fester like I always do. I knew I would fester until I was through my door. Once in, I knew to expect the rolling cycle of calm, KABOOM! Calm, KABOOM! I also knew to expect some other things because when I’m angry I’m predictable in my unpredictability.

No trigger of anger remains the sole reason. A follows B in the alphabet and you can’t spell anger or alphabet without the letter ‘a’.

I don’t know, it made sense when I was making a cup of tea.

Anyway, I got off the train and went to KFC. I knew I wouldn’t eat if I didn’t go home with something. Nuclear annoyance takes away all appetite.

So I got home and picked at it, and it really was a waste of money. I’d eaten so that was at least something. A snack essentially, but more than expected.

I turned on the TV. I’ve got to wait a few minutes now for it to warm up. Actually, I ate during that interim period. So however long that was is however long I picked. I ate the skin, some chicken, and I left the chips. So maybe it wasn’t a few minutes but who cares? Because I tired of the TV within the first 5 minutes of Bones.

Fortunately, the shuffle on my playlist seemed to know what to do (for once). It actually played a series of songs that assisted and didn’t get me hitting ‘next’. If I hit ‘next’ too many times it always turns to ‘pause’ and then I’m in silence.

Silence and anger, not good.

So I laid on a production for the mirror.

I cut my moves and, well:

Because life is words to me, and sarcastic ones at that, and because I’m blogger who has used his platform to air such ventings, I did just that.

I could criticise the post if I wanted, but even if I did it wouldn’t take away the power of sarcasm. It’s such an underrated self-help tool.

And so it was all I did that saw me fully calm within 3 hours.

I did good.


Brings about the stress-induced vertigo migraines.

I got up this morning and into work okay but I lasted until 10.

Since getting home I’ve spent my time on the sofa.

I think it was last nights stress coupled with not really eating that brought about today’s vertigo.

I can manage stress until the cows come home, and the stresses and angers that I can control are gone, going, or tamed. For everything out of my hands, it’s a matter of ACTION STATIONS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! It’s putting out fires, enacting plans, with the aim of nipping it in the bud.

Unlike last year, I know what to expect from myself so I know what I should do. Yes, it would be very nice to eradicate all stress but life is a quagmire. There’s always a day when,

And then the next day it’s,

(A really small gif of someone badly falling to the floor.)

Tomos James