Random Bouts of Rage
I’ve been struggling with depression for a little of five years. One minute I’ll be fine-happy and content to go about my business and then all of the sudden, something will happen and I’ll do a complete 180. Last night, it was the Olympics that set me off. I was watching the swimming and gymnastics competitions with my mom and sister, when all of the sudden, I started thinking about how these kids were fifteen years old and already winning medals for their country and here I am-nearly 25 years old with hardly anything to show for it.
Every now and then, these feelings of depression are accompanied by random bouts of rage. I get so angry that all I want to do is go out and break something. I want to cause harm to something so people can see how I feel inside. I’m sure this feeling is dangerous. Normally, I can hold it together. I can keep the feelings buried inside and will them away. Last night, however, I could not. It’s times like these when I turn my anger towards myself. Last night, my weapon of choice was my red pen. I took it and dug it as hard as I could into my left arm and just drug it back and forth until the pain helped to ease the anger away. Yes, I realize how crazy all of this sounds and I apologize that my first entry here is on the morbid side. The weird thing is, I woke up this morning ready to tackle the day. I’m not “happy,” per se, but I’m focused enough to try and get through the day and work on making myself happy. Isn’t that what really matters in the end?