Originally Written July 22, 2022

I am known to many emotions. Some complex, some surface level.

However, in my acquaintance with a wide range of emotions, Anger is one that rarely introduces itself to me.

I think I have been mad a few times, but even then, I never really expressed that feeling of being mad.

I am speaking on true anger.

Rage. A burning so intense that you become unrecognizable.

Being mad still isn’t the same as true anger.

I have permanent scars on my hands. They have not been able to be thoroughly explained to me. All I know is that they are the aftermath of anger.

Earlier this year, I came to know Anger. One morning, I woke up to scars on my hands and feet. I knew I was angry night before, but I had no idea to what extent.

The night before, all I could remember was I couldn’t breathe. There was a pain in the center of my chest, and certain parts of my body had begun to tingle and go numb. I woke up to that same pain in my chest, a wrinkle in my forehead, and no words to speak.

There was glass scattered throughout the entrance of my hallway and my kitchen. Every pot and pan still scattered along the counter. My crock-pot boiling over. The food I never ate still on the table.

I told my friends I was angry.

Why?

What could have gotten sweet little Ashley so angry?

Ashley doesn’t get mad.

Ashley doesn’t get angry.

Ashley doesn’t fight.

…

But Ashley does get mad

Ashley does get angry.

Ashley WILL fight.

Ashley may not like to.

But she will.

My life is moving in the direction that’s best suited for me. I don’t need anyone’s permission to live my life. Your words hold no weight on my life. No one owns me or my actions. I don’t need to be reported on. Let people move on with their life. They would like to move forward, and your constant reminder of the past is not progressive.

Misery truly loves company, but you don’t need company, you need help.

Practice Humanity.

-a.