I have bouts of uncontrollable rage that stem from the most sime things that people do. It's something that I am not proud of. It's something that consumes me, it's as if I've awoken in another reality, another existence. Where I know that if it were not for my practiced politeness I would be the very image of what American society paints black men.
Those animalistic, unstable traits I possess are probably not something unique to me. I understand that others deal with anger issues and emotional scars that they cannot mend.
I hate that I'm like this. That I have this malignant shroud that I cast over everything and everyone around me.
All of the smallest things trigger me ... I feel childish for this behavior. I feel ashamed of the way that my mind responds to things my body has no toxic reaction to.
I hate that I struggle with a duality of existence. I hate that it's a struggle for me to not push people away out of my anger-fueled flips.
People just say "oh get over it" and it's not that simple. It's never been that simple; it never will be ...
No comments:
Post a Comment