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I really did feel like I just wanted to be destructive. I wanted to get out of the car, ro get home, and just physically ruin something. It scared the shit out of me, but I didn't feel like I was being irrational. I was just...really angry, I guess. I'm still not completely calm, but writing about it seems to be helping a bit. There's too many things leading up to it, and too much wierd moody shit caught up in it to really get into it in a valuable way, but suffice it to say it was not a chemical imbalance or another irrational flip-out, I just reached a breaking point, and I really almost felt myself physically break somehow when it happened.
I haven't had any problems with anger in a long, long long time, and I don't neccessarilly think I'm having one now, it's just been a while since I've let myself feel this way so openly and with acceptance of it. Scary shit. I don't like it, and I'm finding it increasingly difficult to find ways to relieve it without feeling more angry at myself for feeling selfish about my reasons for being so angry.




















The fuse was something simple and stupid that happened tonight, but I realize now that it was obviously just what lit up a ball of stress and frustration about lots of things, which I'm now realizing are mostly definitely born squarely here at my home. I need to take some action, despite how I feel about it or what it might result in, or this is just oging to happen again, and maybe I won't be so levelheaded about it during and afterwards.
-Whew. I'm trying to slow the snowball that's just rolling and rolling and picking up more rationalizations for the way I felt and feel, but I think I'm basically just left with this big ball and I've got to stand here holding it until it melts...




















Dave
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seriously.