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I think everyone knows the first step to take if you find yourself in a hole: Stop digging.
Not many people follow it to the logical second step, which is: Throw in the body.
I am feeling exceptionally angry and destructive right now, and if I weren't also exhausted, I suspect I would be a force to reckon with.
I feel like breaking things. I feel like throwing things away. I feel like chopping things to tiny bits, with scissors and knives and razors, and throwing them in the air just to watch them fall. I feel like screaming at people, screaming the most hurtful, awful, TRUE things I can think of, just to watch the shock and the tears. In fact, I've done that to someone today, and I'm ashamed to say that it felt really, really bitchin' good, just to call them the worst possible things I could say, to hate what they did with a fiery burning passion.
If you're reading this and wondering "Is this about me?" then don't worry your head any further. It's not about you. It's about me. I have the right to have emotions of my own. I have the right to feel and express those emotions in any way that doesn't actually harm other people.
Frankly, I don't care who gets uncomfortable that I'm angry, anymore. I am sleep-deprived and hungry and lonely and if I don't get angry, I'm going to go to bed and cry and never get up again. If you aren't comfortable when I'm not smiling and happy no matter what you do to me, and you complain or refuse to be around me when I don't feel so great, then you're a fair-weather friend and I don't need you in my life. People get sad, people get upset, people get fucking pissed as hell (in the American sense) and part of being a friend is realizing that your friends get angry too.
I love you guys. I really do. Doesn't mean I'm not still pretty angry, though.
Not many people follow it to the logical second step, which is: Throw in the body.
I am feeling exceptionally angry and destructive right now, and if I weren't also exhausted, I suspect I would be a force to reckon with.
I feel like breaking things. I feel like throwing things away. I feel like chopping things to tiny bits, with scissors and knives and razors, and throwing them in the air just to watch them fall. I feel like screaming at people, screaming the most hurtful, awful, TRUE things I can think of, just to watch the shock and the tears. In fact, I've done that to someone today, and I'm ashamed to say that it felt really, really bitchin' good, just to call them the worst possible things I could say, to hate what they did with a fiery burning passion.
If you're reading this and wondering "Is this about me?" then don't worry your head any further. It's not about you. It's about me. I have the right to have emotions of my own. I have the right to feel and express those emotions in any way that doesn't actually harm other people.
Frankly, I don't care who gets uncomfortable that I'm angry, anymore. I am sleep-deprived and hungry and lonely and if I don't get angry, I'm going to go to bed and cry and never get up again. If you aren't comfortable when I'm not smiling and happy no matter what you do to me, and you complain or refuse to be around me when I don't feel so great, then you're a fair-weather friend and I don't need you in my life. People get sad, people get upset, people get fucking pissed as hell (in the American sense) and part of being a friend is realizing that your friends get angry too.
I love you guys. I really do. Doesn't mean I'm not still pretty angry, though.
