Toxicity

I have "anger issues."

I think a lot of people do, and the only thing that makes mine stand out is that they're writ somewhere on official papers. Oh, and they're "deep-seated."

Nu-cu-lar

Maybe it's the same way the Earth just rolls through every day, able to ignore the roiling magma coursing through the deepest layers. I've found one of the best ways to "deal" with my emotional regulatory issues has been to just disconnect. I am, for the most part, an observer of my own mental state, staring into the crater. I catalog my emotions rather than feeling them.

But the anger is trickier. It's hard to ignore, sometimes. I've reformed a little, I guess. I don't enact violence on other people. I don't manipulate and ruin. I don't smash my belongings or put holes in the walls. I do not harm myself anymore. I've come to terms with those impulses and I do my damnedest not to indulge in my symptoms.

I'm pissed off all the time. Last night it choked me. My arms wanted to swing. My vision was clouded. My jaw is sore from clenching. My muscles ache from the tension. Last night I felt dangerous again, precarious. My crust was too thin last night.

It doesn't matter what triggers it. What matters is this morning. I've got to deal now with the unease and anxiety that results from peering into the chasm of my own rage and seeing everything that ever hurt or angered me. Seeing everything that tried to shape me. Seeing all those scars as new ones grow over this breach.

No one was hurt last night, but I'm reminded that I live on shaky ground. I'm reminded it could topple and burn.