I really despise getting angry. It’s a destructive force, that takes me to where I really do not want to go. I feel like, if it’s a correlated effort by those I despise, to get me to the point of explosion. I get angry very easily, easier than most. I hate being in a precarious situation. It’s the feeling of not knowing what will happen next, that annoys me. I try to remain nonchalant everywhere I go, but when the time comes for me to be outdoors, which is superbly seldom, I feel all those, within the world are becoming more disingenuous by the day, and that gets me angry, hence, my life of indoors thrives.
When I hear anger, I get angry. When others raise their voices, I get angry. Everything gets me angry, very angry. I take the initiative when it comes to staying indoors, and vaguely get persuaded to go outside, unless I know I won’t run into anyone. My life is unobtrusive and it has to be, for the sake of others, as well as my own. I feel as though I live in an enclave…in a world, within a world of my own. I am most cerebral and the least sociable individual one might come across. I am very amiable, when things are collected and peaceful, but quickly my sonorous voice blurts out, when I start to feel the tremble of anger starting to arise. I love my serene life and try extremely hard, to keep it that way.
I am diagnosed with Intermittent Explosive Disorder, for those that don’t know, and let me say, it’s very difficult to contain, even with medication. But, I have the solution, even if it is short-term. I used to play video games, but I quickly learned, that my aggression led to many broken remotes, so I ended that. I’ve tried working out, but just fueled more anger than reduced it. I ultimately came across writing, and it is that, that has calmed my nerves and balanced my actions. I very much enjoyed politics, but we all know where that can end up, so I quickly came to the conclusion, to keep my thoughts on that, to a minimum. Schisms are not in my nature, unless it’s on writing, for the fact of, bettering my writing.
We all become angry and results may vary, but for some, it can become so indecorous, that sometimes loss of self happens, and the memory of the incident, cannot be remembered. That must be a scary feeling, the feeling of “blacking out”. Thankfully so, I have never been in such a scenario. It is not a way, to live out life, but I leave it all to God. It is He that gave me this life, so it must be leading me to an undisclosed existence of my life. I am either explicitly indecorous or serenely unobtrusive….never a middle ground.
This is my life, on a daily basis…critically reserved or destructively assertive. It’s the never-ending paradox, that is my life.