A lot of things make me angry: animal abuse, child abuse, slow drivers and idiots at the gas pump who don’t pull all the way forward. I’m not sure why I get so angry. Maybe it’s my raging hormones? Maybe I’ve got the “redhead temper?” Or maybe it’s as simple as I just harbor a lot of rage and anger? My vote goes to my hormones and me just being well, angry. In the dictionary anger is defined as, ‘a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by wrong.’ That’s me.
People always assume that since I grew up with everything a child could ever want, that I was happy. Not the case. Yes, I was and still am completely spoiled. I’m not complaining by any means. But my parents bought my love, instead of earning it. And that too, makes me angry. As I reflect on my childhood I realize that I was a lone a lot. I spent a lot of time writing and watching TV. It seems as though no one wanted to spend time with me. This also, makes me angry.
Others often wonder why I get angry as easily as I do. I think it’s my way of coping. I never showed true emotion as a child or even in my teen years. When I was seventeen, I was with a “man” who was incredibly abusive. Even then, I didn’t cry very often. To me, crying was a sign of weakness, that he had broken me. So instead I’d get angry. Anger has been my security blanket for so many years, and it’s a hard thing to let go of. If has protected me in my hour of need. I truly believe that being so angry has saved me from being where I don’t want to be. And I must admit that it feels good just letting it all out, to stand up and scream at someone sometimes.
After surviving what I’ve survived in my short 22 year’s I think I have the right to be angry. I try and channel that anger into positive things; like school and focusing on how to become a great parent to my son. I don’t want him to feel how I’ve felt most of my life. I want him to know he was wanted more than anything in the world and even now, I tell him daily that I love him and can’t wait to meet him.
Even though I’m getting better about controlling my anger, I still let it out in small doses. While talking to my dad about school, I’ll say things like, “Don’t you regret focusing all of your attention on Travis? The kid that ended up in prison?” I usually don’t get a response, but I want him to know that I remember and that I’m still angry.
Everyday is a struggle to not get angry. Yes, its hard at times when people make comments or there’s that idiot at the gas station just taking up two pumps for nothing, but that’s ok. I can’t worry about all the little things in life. My life is beautiful, and I feel blessed that I’m still here to enjoy it. As best I can.
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