Analysis Women
News Documents
Library Statistics


Sentiments and Emotional Intelligence (III)
(New Woman, 2004-03-24)

Controlling one’s own feelings

When a man is irritated, he loses his reason.
Proverb


The spiral of preoccupation

”I was so upset. For some reason or other—same old story— that stupid comment was too much for me to handle.

”I went over the incident in my mind a thousand and one times, like a three-act play. I analyzed it, dissected it, quartered it, and put it back together again. My emotions sprang up and I felt anger and tremendous pain over what was said to me.

”I felt very hurt, but I saw that my memory and imagination were multiplying the pain, repeating it over and over again, making me wish I had said or done this or that. It’s horrible. You can become obsessed over something that happens and just lose all sense of the true proportion of things.”

The preoccupation so vividly narrated by that woman certainly does not keep itself within reasonable limits. It can develop to a point that is clearly damaging to the person.

The preoccupation spiral is the fundamental nucleus of anxiety.

It’s not that the worry or preoccupation is negative in itself. As Lizabeth Roemer and Thomas Borkovec have noted, preoccupation is important for man’s survival and dignity, because it is essential for constructive reflection, and serves as a warning sign before a potential danger. It can help impel us to seek solutions.

Nevertheless, when the preoccupation continually repeats itself without contributing any positive solution, it produces a constant emotional background noise that generates an overwhelming sense of anxiety. That spiral often begins with an internal event, which then jumps from one topic to another with a speed that can become dizzying. If it becomes chronic and habitual, those people cannot make themselves stop worrying, and can’t seem to relax. And, instead of looking for a possible way out, they limit themselves to going over and over those same ideas, going deeper into the same rut of the thought that worries them.

If that vicious circle intensifies and persists, it can darken the argumentative thread of the mind, and can lead, in the most serious cases, to nervous disorders of various kinds: phobias (when the anxiety becomes fixed on an intense aversion towards situations or people), obsessions (over health, order, cleanliness, one’s own image, weight, physical fitness, etc.), a panic sensation (before a physical risk, or before having to appear in public), insomnia (as a consequence of intrusive thoughts or worries that are not kept within bounds), etc.


—And why can worry end up in that kind of mental addiction?

It is difficult to know. Perhaps because while the person is immersed in those recurring thoughts, she escapes from her subjective feeling of anxiety. She gives in to the temptation of losing herself in an endless sequence of preoccupations. She takes refuge in them, and they surround her in a kind of drugging cloud.

— And what does one have to do to get out of that spiral of preoccupation? Because it’s not at all easy to follow advice like “don’t worry; take a walk; distract yourself a little” or the like.

The best way is to know oneself well so as to detect the phenomenon and cut that tendency from the beginning. We have to adopt a critical attitude towards the elements that constitute the origin of the preoccupation, and ask oneself three basic questions:

  • What are the real chances that that’s going to happen?
  • What would be a reasonable action that I could take to keep it from happening?
  • What use is it for me to keep going over it in this way?

    In this way, with a mixture of attention and healthy skepticism, a person can stop the anxiety and little by little, leave the vicious circle that tends to imprison her.


    Controlling feelings of sadness

    There are certainly moments when sadness is the most natural and fitting reaction to events, such as, example, the death of a loved one, or an important loss that is irreparable. In these cases, sadness provides a kind of reflexive refuge, of necessary pain in order to take on the loss and understand its meaning.

    Nevertheless, common sadness, that melancholy that leads people to be beaten down, to isolate themselves from others, and to sink under the weight of loneliness and desolation, is a cruel and lacerating sentiment that we have to learn how to overcome.

    One of the main reasons for the duration and intensity of a state of sadness is the person’s degree of obsession for whatever caused the sadness. Excessive worrying over that cause only makes the sadness become keener and more prolonged. To isolate oneself, to think constantly about how bad we feel, or about the new evils that could come upon us, are excellent ways of prolonging that state.

    —And what can be done to overcome it?

    Similar to what we said about the spiral of preoccupation, the best therapy against sadness is to reflect about its causes so as to seek a remedy in the measure that we can.

    To learn to tackle the thoughts that are hidden within the nucleus of whatever is making us sad, in order to question their validity and consider more positive alternatives.

    Sometimes, sadness has its origin in causes that are surprisingly small. It begins, perhaps, with a mood that is a bit grumpy, or maybe with complaining, susceptibility, or envy, more or less light, that in that moment seems controllable and inoffensive. But if we let ourselves be dominated by those sentiments, it will be inevitable that they will come back to haunt us later at a time when we are feeling more down, and it could also happen that if a person doesn’t take care of herself, they will begin to govern her ways of thinking and feeling.

    And the worst part of this phenomenon isn’t just the bad time we go through—and make others go through—on each occasion. The worst part is that if we do not act decisively to overcome it, there can come a time when those sentiments establish themselves in a permanent way within us, and each wave of a new “attack” can invade deeper and deeper places in our emotional life.

    Another way to change a mood is to act on the associations of ideas that are produced in our minds. As Richard Wenzlaff has said, we all have a wide repertoire of negative ideas and reasoning that come easily to our minds when we are in a bad mood. People more prone to sadness have often established strong associations between those ideas and whatever happens to them in ordinary life. They tend to distract themselves by associating those ideas, jumping from one to another, which only deepens the negative rut. They end up dominated by a strong tendency to turn any reflection into a lamentation. To cut these chains of black thoughts is the best way to come out of the vicious circle of sadness.

    Life is more than a book of complaints.

    And although some people seem to think that it shows sharpness and maturity to show an attitude of constant criticism of the evils that they suffer, or that society in general suffers, it is much more practical to dedicate those energies—or at least, a good part of them—to find good examples in the people around us, and to try to follow them. It’s not that we have to ignore or hide what is bad, but it’s important to learn to center ourselves on constructive tasks.

    Distraction is also a good way of keeping away those recurring ideas, above all when those more or less depressing thoughts have an almost automatic character, and barge into one’s mind unexpectedly, without a clear direct cause. In any event, this has to be done in a proportionate way, because an immoderate use of distraction can be dangerous: for example, heavy television watchers often end their marathon sessions with a greater sense of sadness and frustration than they began with.

    There are many other ways of tackling sadness. For example, making an effort to see things from a different angle, a more positive angle; avoiding self-pitying thoughts or a victim mentality, shining a light on the positive that—little or a lot— may be hidden behind that moment that seems so negative to us; thinking that many other people have known how to overcome situations that are objectively much worse than mine; seeking relief in someone else who is not trapped in that spiral of sadness and who can listen to us and offer alternatives or remedies, etc.

    There will be occasions in which the main cause will simply be tiredness. For example, a person who habitually sleeps very little can show a pessimistic or irritable character, and be convinced that her reactions are logical in the face of the things that happen to her. Perhaps she doesn’t realize what is really happening: that she suffers from a plain and simple state of tiredness, the natural result of having slept little. It is an example of the influence that a bodily situation can have on our mood, but in some cases we can experience it without realizing its cause.

    Sometimes, the solution will be to sleep. Other times, it will be to immerse ourselves in some occupation, even if it is not rest: for example, taking care of some small pending jobs (housecleaning, repair work, etc.) that make us center our attention on something else, and also makes us enjoy the gratifying sensation of having finished something.

    It should be emphasized, lastly, that thinking about others is an excellent therapy against sadness, because sadness often feeds itself on worries that revolve around oneself, and the fact of helping others—always something to be recommended for anyone, whether sad or happy—has the beneficial effect of getting rid of a little of our selfishness (among many other good effects).

    The process of anger

    Let’s suppose—the example is from Daniel Goleman—that another driver comes dangerously close to us in the middle of thick traffic in the city, and his bad driving obliges us to veer to the side and slam on the brakes in order to avoid hitting him. What is our reaction?

    It’s possible that our first thought will be: “That idiot! He almost crashed into me! He doesn’t know where he’s going!” And perhaps other thoughts even more harsh and hostile will come, and these can become words, gestures, and even screams. And as a result of that small incident, we suffer a strong rush of adrenaline, a tension, and a bad mood that can last some seconds, or some minutes… unless our bad spirit dissipates and we do something with more serious and lasting consequences.

    Now let’s compare that reaction with another more serene one, or with a little bit of a sense of humor. “Well, looks like he didn’t see me. He’s obviously in a hurry; looks like he’s going to put out a fire.” This type of reaction tempers our first thought of anger through understanding or a sense of humor, and it stops the rise of anger.


    —But anger doesn’t always have to be bad.

    Of course. It’s about reaching that balance that Aristotle proposed when he said: Anyone can get angry; that’s very easy. But to get angry with the right person, to the right degree, in the right moment, with a just cause and in the correct way, that, certainly, is no longer such an easy thing.

    Sometimes it helps to externalize our indignation to underline an attitude of reproach that we consider it appropriate to show, but at other times—perhaps most often—the problem is that anger can escape our control. As Benjamin Franklin wrote, we will always have reasons to be angry, but those reasons will rarely be good ones.


    —Anyway, sometimes it’s better to express anger than to keep it all inside.

    Sometimes yes, but it’s doubtful that such a therapy will be effective in a general way. It’s not at all clear that expressing anger has liberating effects.

    The normal thing is that the fact of giving free rein to our anger, although at the beginning it may appear to give us a certain relief or satisfaction, does little or nothing to mitigate its effects. It’s true that there are exceptions, and sometimes it is necessary to express our indignation quite clearly, and it can even be quite wise, pedagogically speaking (for example, to restore authority, or to show the seriousness of a situation). However, given the highly inflammatory nature of anger, that’s much easier said than done. Keeping oneself within the reasonable limits of anger is something that few people are capable of doing.

    Most of the time—almost always—unloading our anger leads us to say and do things that—if we are sincere with ourselves—we come to regret pretty quickly. In moments of anger, we think, say, and do things that cause wounds and breaks that sometimes cannot be fixed, or at least, are very difficult to heal.

    A coup d’état on the government of our own person

    It was a hot August afternoon in 1963 when Richard R. decided to commit a robbery for the last time in his life. It had been a while since he’d done it, after a good amount of small thefts that had landed him in prison. But he desperately needed money, and he thought that this occasion truly would be the last one.

    He chose a luxury apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan that two university students were occupying. Richard thought that no one would be home at that hour, but he was mistaken. Once inside, he found himself with one of the young women. He was obliged to threaten her with a knife and attack her, and he had to do the same thing when, just as he was leaving, he bumped into the other occupant of the apartment, who was just coming in at that moment off the street.

    While he was busy with the second young woman, her companion got more and more angry seeing what was happening, and in a few minutes she had an attack of nerves, in the middle of which she assured Richard that she would always remember his face and would not stop until the police caught him and put him in jail.

    Richard, who had sworn that this would be his last robbery, started to become infuriated, until he too lost complete control of himself. And, in the middle of a full attack of rage and fear, he beat the two girls so hard that they died.

    Thirty years later, that man is still in prison, known for the “crime against the university students”. Remembering that shameful afternoon, that man lamented in his jail cell in an interview published in a magazine, “I was like a crazy man. I lost my head, I didn’t know what I was doing.”

    That fateful afternoon in August 1963, two people lost control of themselves, and the result was the end of two peoples’ lives and the ruin of a third who at that time seemed to be on the verge of straightening himself out.

    This tragic episode, sadly true, is an extreme example of how unloading anger can lead to a real coup d’état of the government of our own person. In less drastic forms, although perhaps not always less intense, it can happen to everyone with greater or lesser frequency. It suffices to think of the times when one lost control of oneself in an argument with a spouse, a son or daughter, parents, a colleague at work, the driver of another vehicle, or whoever. In those moments, one can say and do things that, when we look back, we see were completely disproportionate and counterproductive.

    That is why expressing anger openly is usually one of the worst ways of dealing with it, since the attacks of anger increase emotional excitement and make it last even longer.

    It is much more effective to try to calm down.

    —Or to repress oneself?

    More than repressing anger, I would say that it’s a matter of seeking an outlet. It’s not a matter of trying to bury anger inside, nor of letting oneself be dragged along by it, but of trying to calm down and find a solution in the most positive way possible.

    —But it’s not so easy to calm down when someone has gotten you angry.

    That’s true, it isn’t—but there are many ways of trying it, some more or less effective. For example, look at the chain of hostile thoughts that feeds anger. This can give us a key to see how we can calm it.

    We should try to undermine the thoughts that feed anger..

    On the contrary, the more we go over the motives that

    The origin and rise of anger

    According to some studies done by Dolf Zillman, anger usually has its origin in the sensation of being threatened. It’s a threat that can be physical or psychological—for example, feeling scorned, frustrated, etc.—and it produces a bodily discharge of hormones which are more or less intense according to the magnitude of the anger. These discharges generate a quick and ready source of the energy necessary to fight or flee.

    In a parallel manner, there is a discharge of adrenaline produced in our nervous system that provokes a generalized excitation that can last minutes, hours, or even days, keeping us in a state of diffused hypersensitivity that predisposes us to new outbreaks. The result is that people tend to be more predisposed to anger once they have already been provoked, and they remain lightly excited or they end up more tired.

    For that reason, after a long day of work, a person will feel especially predisposed to get angry at home for the most insignificant reasons (noise or the children’s disorder, or some other small provocation), even for reasons that in other circumstances wouldn’t be sufficient to provoke such reactions.

    Anger sparks an emotional turmoil that tends to dissipate slowly. If, during that stage of the gradual dissipation of anger, a new provocation comes up (which can happen easily, given the hypersensitivity proper to those moments), there is then a second discharge before the first has dissipated. As one would expect, this process can repeat itself, and each discharge builds on the others, and any disturbing thought produced during that process will provoke an irritation much more intense than it would have in other circumstances.

    That’s why, once someone is immersed in that anger dynamic, if she doesn’t make a serious effort to abandon that path, her emotional temperature will increase until she falls into an outbreak of rage.

    —But if it is that way, angry people will tend to get increasingly angry, and for the smallest reasons.

    However, there is another element that is worth emphasizing. Most people who are irritable, aggressive, or susceptible feel very bad when they realize how easily they lose their cool, and that makes them want all the more to learn how to control themselves.

    So, the most effective remedy is to know ourselves well so that we are very aware of what types of thoughts we are most sensitive to. In that way, we can be attentive to the first symptoms of anger and put a solution.

    If, for example, we were waiting for a person to arrive for an appointment and they show up late, we have to look for a positive explanation instead of getting angry at them as soon as they walk in the door. If we have to converse with someone who bothers us, and it can’t be avoided, we have to try to develop our capacity to see things from that person’s point of view. And for critical moments, sometimes the most intelligent thing is to have foreseen ways of controlling ourselves, like making a great effort to keep silent, not to respond to one slight with another, to keep on going without stopping when we are provoked, etc.

    These are behavioral habits that don’t happen automatically; it’s a matter of learning them. And the main problem is that those skills must be exercised precisely in the moments when we find ourselves in the worst conditions to do so; that is, when we feel our pulse quickening and we are indignant. That’s exactly when we have to remember all this, listen, try to calm down and keep it under control—not arguing, not blaming others, and not taking refuge in silent rancor. When two people are angry, the more intelligent person is the one who knows how to keep silence or remove herself from the situation on time (or if both are already angry, it is the one who takes the initiative to be reconciled).

    Making it on time

    In the midst of escalating anger, the moment when we intervene is decisive: the sooner we do it, the better our chances of stopping it. Anger can be extinguished in its beginnings, before the flames start climbing higher, if we can take hold of some effective thoughts before externalizing it.

    —What kinds of thoughts are you referring to?

    To some explanation that will help us to reconsider things, or that satisfies in some way our initial perplexity. For example, one way is to think that the person who has bothered us could be tired, or under some tensions that are changing their behavior. Or we could think that they are the victim of a bad temperament and they don’t know how to measure their words very well; or we could remember that there have been times when we were in similar situations and we got angry too, and shortly afterwards felt sorry for it, etc.

    It can also be helpful to distance oneself a little from the cause of the anger, or at least to try to center one’s attention on other matters, and in that way stop the escalation of hostile thoughts. Although it seems like a very simple remedy, it is an excellent means to deactivate anger, because it’s difficult to continue being angry when one is immersed in other things or if some other tasks are going well.

  •  
    print comment send  
    All rights reserved
    Copyright New Woman
    2001 - 2010