Not so zen - by Zoe Papadakis

I am on an anger detox prescribed to me by an online Buddhist monk. Well, at least that it was his online credentials say. In reality, this ‘monk’ is probably some middle-aged white guy who sports a mullet, beer belly and has nothing else to do with Buddhism other than the fact that he occasionally likes to blog about it. Nevertheless, I found his advice wise and insightful thus embarking upon a mission of ‘learning how to achieve inner peace by not reacting with anger'. All that this basically means is that, while all my friends and colleagues get to stew in their wondrous rage, I am left feeling somewhat deprived.

You see, the initial concept sounded great but five days into my ‘anger detox’ has made me struggle to contain my anger and I find myself picking fights for no reasons.

It was just the other day when I was following my fiancé around our apartment like a crazy woman, looking for something…ANYTHING, to latch onto as an excuse to start a fight.

“It’s raining again,” I sigh drastically.

“I know angel, its not my fault,” he says to me.

“Yes but…IT'S RAINING AGAIN,” I pout.

“I know angel, it will stop soon,” he says sympathetically.

“Okay. By the way, I hate my stupid wedding shoes and want to get a new pair,” I tell him, thinking it would definitely start an argument, considering the hell we went through to get the shoes in the first place.

“Okay angel, we can go get new ones over the weekend,” he says affectionately.

“Australia plays better than the Proteas,” I say, taking one last stab at him.

“I know angel,” he says sweetly.

I give up trying to vent my pent up rage on people and instead decide to kick my computer. It beeps angrily back and then shuts itself down. Great.

THIS is what the monk was talking about. Reacting to stressful situations with anger has its repercussions. So that night, while I was lying in bed and dozing off, I vow to try harder to keep my emotions in check. But then I am startled awake at 5am by the ringing of my cell.

I stare at the screen of the phone. Unknown number. 

I roll my eyes towards the sky.

“I get it, you are testing me,” I mutter through clenched teeth.

“Well, I am not going to give in,” I state boldly.

My phone stops ringing. I breathe a sigh of relief and get back into bed. As I get comfortable, it starts ringing again. Unknown number.

I roll my eyes back towards the sky in what I hope is a meaningful look.

“Hello,” I answer.

“Hi, who is this?” the caller at the end of the line asks rudely.

“Who is THIS?” I retaliate, feeling slightly annoyed.

“Who is THIS?” the caller responds.

ARRGGHH!! I hang up and slam my phone down onto the table. It beeps angrily and switches itself off. Great.

At this point, I start to wonder if I am not part of some cosmic comedy relief. Maybe it is all part of a new, intergalactic reality TV show aimed at getting the funniest reactions out of human beings. Maybe there are aliens sitting on their couches, glued to their television screens and laughing their heads off while poor sods such as myself go about our daily lives. Maybe there is some huge intergalactic production company that has planted hidden cameras all over the world and selected specific people to unknowingly be the stars of the show.  Or maybe I am just very, very bad at handling my emotions.