Angry

I am angry without focus.

You should watch out for me. I'll probably take it out on you.

I hate this feeling that pounces upon me at the most unexpected times. There's no pattern to it -- months could pass when I don't feel like this, or it might show up every other day. But it keeps coming, and I have to endure it while it lasts. The problem is that when it comes, it invariably seems like it could never go away, which simply feeds into the cycle of frustration and creates almost a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I feel dissatisfied with myself. I feel like I can't do anything right and incapable of self-improvement. I feel like my impulses are wrong and that I have no insight into what others want or expect. I feel I make choices steeped in weakness and always take the easy way out to avoid being confrontational. I feel inadequate and insecure.

At the same time, I feel unappreciated. As if others must think I'm not good enough while I know I am good enough. I give what I can, I do my best, and I get put down. And it's not right. I don't want that. I want others to realize what has meaning to me, to embrace those things, and to make them more meaningful.

I am self-assured. I know I'm a good person, I know I'm intelligent, I know I have a decent understanding of others. I have confidence. But I can't deal with the less than perfect elements of myself. Small mistakes pass me by in the short run, but they build up in my consciousness and suddenly assault me with a million pinpricks.

Sometimes I don't want to deal with others. I have my own weaknesses to contend with. I lose patience and I don't want to sympathize. I don't always want to work out problems. I have to rely entirely on my head and what I know from experience is the right thing to do. I have maturity, but it contends with my innate desire to shut down and block out the world.

I am independent. I am a self-contained person, capable of creating my own happiness. I don't need others. But I think this may create problems for me. I can't help but distance myself emotionally from everyone. I have knee-jerk objectivity. I build up walls so I can't get hurt, but I think doing that hurts me in the long run by preventing me from developing any true intimacy with others. I laugh, I joke, I have fun with my friends and family, but I never think enough about love and deep bonds. I wonder sometimes if people are just disposable to me, if friends are too easily replaceable, and if this is so, then what the hell is wrong with me?

These are probably ridiculous fears. All of this has been stream of consciousness writing, so it probably makes little if any sense, and the words themselves may not be precise in their meaning. And I don't mean this. I don't understand the thoughts swirling around my head in the haze. I have the general sensation of the world not treating me right, and this is my sulky response. I can't rest in an uneasy peace; I need to scream and shake my fist at the perceived injustice of my life. I am not weak; my strength is internal. I can't put up with the little grievances life gives me forever; sometimes, I have to demand better treatment -- even if I can never receive it.

I have a right to be angry.