By Catherine Portland

There are probably people in existence who have never succumbed to jealousy. I am not one of them.

I don't have frequent attacks. In fact, I haven't felt it for a while, which I'm glad of, because it is both the most awful, and most futile, emotion.

I've never really understood those who rage against the world because of their own feelings of inadequacy, wanting everyone else to be worse off so they feel comparatively better, or even just OK. A problem shared isn't necessarily a problem solved, especially if the problem happens to be crippling insecurity.

Self-directed hate isn't, granted, especially helpful, but it is something many people struggle with on a regular basis. I don't know one female friend who would class themselves as 'self-assured' even if, to all intents and purposes, they are.

With so many individuals feeling bad about themselves at least some of the time, susceptibility to jealousy is widespread. However, this does not make it condonable. Envy is definitely the deadliest sin in that it turns your self-contempt outwards without diffusing it.

Far from being cathartic, jealousy simply increases the sum total of negativity because you wind up hating someone else as well as yourself.

Knowledge should be power, but I'm a preacher not a practitioner, and at the weekend I fell prey to the green-eyed-monster good and proper.

I went out for a meal with a group of 11 other friends. Sat opposite the guy I'm dating, I smugly expected to be the object of his attention and affection for the majority, if not all, of the evening.

How misguided I was. He ended up chatting to the very pretty, very flirty mutual friend he was sitting next to throughout the meal. Pretty much exclusively.

At first, it didn't bother me. After all, it's only natural to talk to the person you are sitting beside, I admonished myself.

But as the minutes ticked by and he didn't avert his gaze from her doll-featured face, I felt increasingly aggrieved. My own face became stony whenever I looked in their direction and eventually I had to escape with my friend so she could have a cheeky cigarette and I could calm down.

Happily it worked. I was tempted to vent but I resisted and I'm so glad, because in hindsight I was being ridiculous. Apart from anything else, I spent most of the evening talking to the old university friend beside me, who was male and sitting opposite his girlfriend.

Jealousy is like road rage in that it blinds you for the moment but it is always, invariably better not to say anything and wait for it to pass.