The Cambridge Guide to Anger Management
Cambridge alumni Stephen Hawking once said, ‘People won’t have time for you if you are always angry or complaining.’
Judging by the pervading tone of most conversations at Cambridge, one can only assume that Stephen had time for very few people, and spent the majority of his time locked away in Trinity counting particles.
Lets be honest, we’re not a happy bunch and we love a good complaint (and a good oxymoron). But why? Maybe it’s the fact we’re in a top ranking university? Maybe it’s the architectural triumphs that flank our most-trodden pathways? Maybe it’s the glistening employment prospects handed to us with our offer letter? Who knows. But it’s clear there’s a lot to be raging about.
I must draw upon another Cambridge alumni to summarise the best potential response to anger: ‘Better out than in, I always say’ (Shrek). So here are a few efficient ways to release your wrath unto the world to prevent it brewing inside of you until it inevitably bubbles over like the pasta you left cooking in the gyp and you’re left with nothing but a carbohydratey mess and ruptured desires.
Recognise your triggers
Self-knowledge is crucial: it takes different things to push each of us over the edge. For example, my blood often reaches boiling point at the traffic lights at the bottom of Castle Hill that are almost exclusively red. Red, it seems, like the flag of a Spanish bull fighter; my humble Pendleton and I are united as the bull. Ready to charge. But the lights know I can only be still comfortably on my bike for 56 seconds max.
And as soon as I let the tip of my toe touch the road, BAM. Just like fucking Gastby, the green light is back. I desperately try to reconnect my foot with the peddle but all is lost. My foot is reaching through air, finding nothing but pure mortification. Eventually I manage to continue my journey, but at the expense of my time, my dignity and my shins (they often get hit by the pedal in my wild search for it). This happens daily.
Luckily, since I have recognised this I am totally calm and not at all riled up by the lights anymore. I’m fine.
Counting to 10
Counting to 10 gives you time to cool down, so you can think clearly and overcome any dangerous impulses. This also can double up as an opportunity to count all the various things you should be doing with the time you’re wasting counting to 10 like an arrogant toddler. I like to count one number an hour for optimum productivity.
A night out clubbing
In Cindies, no one can hear you scream.
I know what you’re thinking: “I’m not a 48 year old man with a monosyllabic name working in a large (predominantly glass) building in Embankment whilst trying to juggle two children, a wife, an affair and a nicotine habit- why on earth would I purchase a stressball?” The trick here is: you don’t. And no, I’m not inciting theft (yet), but rather suggesting there are more uses than you originally thought for the bread roll from formal. That questionable dough is the perfect consistency for a vigorous squishing, or if you are unable to fully conquer yourself, a semi-dangerous weapon. Or a post murder snack.
A trip to the Chemistry Faculty
“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.” – Mark Twain. Let’s read between the lines here, pals. The only way to rid your mind of the perennial supervision remarks stamped into you by your DoS (Dictator of Studies) is to pour hydrochloric acid upon everything you write.
Writing for the Tab
Counselling sessions are pretty hard to get hold of and my supervisor is less invested in hearing my Castle Hill roasts than I hoped for: there is only one place left to go to vent. And that my friends, is the blissful abyss of the broadcasted internet.
Commenting on the Tab
Sorry, two places left to go to vent.
That’s it. If you aren’t on the same spiritual level as Buddha after this advice (and every other article I write), you probably never will be. But that’s why alcohol exists.