A wife and mother desperately wants to become a nicer person before it is too late. Mariella Frostrup sympathises and suggests she slows down; the modern world is full of things which make us angry. If you have a dilemma, send a brief email to mariella.frostrup@observer.co.uk
THE DILEMMA I'm not very nice to my husband often (and also my son, sometimes). Yet I love them both deeply.
I find myself getting irritated by the most trivial of events, which leads me to lose my temper and lash out and say horrible things. I keep thinking I must try to control myself, but I don't change. I have a responsible job and manage a team of people, and at work I am mostly calm, though I have a bit of a reputation for being fiery. My husband is the most patient and kind person and I feel like I'm taking advantage of his generous nature. Am I goading him into a reaction and, if so, why? I'm worried that I'll drive him away. Often I feel ashamed of my behaviour, but rarely apologise. It's just not nice being like this. I want to be a nicer person.
Don't we all! Quite honestly, what's not to be angry about? We live in a maniacal world where almost everything seems set up to bring us to the very edge of reason, so it's little wonder it seeps back into our homes.
The sort of human interaction we've enjoyed for thousands of years is fast slipping from our grasp, replaced by an invisible but unbreachable technological wall. It seems a sick joke that the potential for increased virtual communication is what we're all celebrating when the real thing is less prevalent than ever in our history. Trying to negotiate the labyrinths that most corporations have become is a major contributing factor. I wouldn't willingly strike up a conversation with my super-smart Samsung washing machine, but that's exactly what Network Rail expects me to do every time I try to get through. Whether it's online banking or incorrect billing, internet shopping or computer meltdowns, the vast majority of people in the developed world are locked into daily combat with inanimate objects.
If you were able to view our tragic self-inflicted demise dispassionately, like a computer say, or an alien, you'd laugh at the stupidity with which we're racing into our own self-perpetuating nightmare with only the pleasure of sharing pictures on Instagram with strangers to show for it. Everybody is angry and nobody is talking about it. Ironically, it's a major difference between the first world and the rest of the world. It's only in our privileged corner of the globe that you can see perfectly placid people erupt like volcanoes over minor incidents and witness strangers' stress levels rise faster than spring tides on one-sided mobile telephone conversations on public transport.
I say all this only to point out that when it comes to rage surges we're experiencing an epidemic and so it's no surprise that it's invading our homes and making bullies of the put upon.
When Ruby Wax first started banging on about mindfulness I stuck my fingers in my ears and thought: new-age nonsense. Now I'm convinced she is the Messiah. We all need to slow the hell down, take a deep breath and remember where the pleasure of being alive is to be found. Watching a sunrise, seeing your kids smile, enjoying a joke with friends, experiencing the sound of silence all bring profound pleasure; not spending an afternoon in a technology store being blasted by bad music while buying yet another device you'll need a degree to master. So much of what happens in our domestic lives is the result of stress that we import unwittingly from outside the front door.
There are experts in anger management to talk to and it's worth consulting a doctor, as there can also be physical reasons for emotional outbursts; underlying depression or menopause are just two of a long list. But you've written me a letter, you know you're in the wrong, so I suspect you're already on the road to recovery. Rage is as instinctive as fear and as unpredictable as love, but, like all our emotions, it can be honed, deflected and diffused.
Make it your mantra to pause, ponder and only then react; it works often enough to make it worth the struggle.
If you have a dilemma, send a brief email to mariella.frostrup@observer.co.uk. To have your say on this week's column, go to theguardian.com/dearmariella. Follow Mariella on Twitter @mariellaf1