Everyone’s felt it. Everyone will probably feel it again. Some might share the same rage experiences, others might differ.
Rage for me, is something I’m
used to, no that’s I lie, I’m still not used to it.
It starts in my bones, my hips, specifically, they ache, and in like one ironically graceful movement, my head will turn, like I’m trying to release the tension building in my neck, I’ll often exhale loudly.
It’s like a warning sign, that a beast is building inside my body, and screaming inside my head. I lose all patience, I grind my teeth out of frustration.
I try to suppress it, push it down deeper, so deep inside of me that I’ll have a little control.
It only makes me rage more when I realise that I’m only sitting on my bed, nothing is happening, nothing is triggering me, that confusion fills my head, causing me to lose the fight against myself.
I’m irritated at my own presence. Someone is shouting at me to stop, but I’m all alone. I feel like crying because I can’t control this emotion, building momentum inside of me, clawing it’s way to my skin, tearing holes in my body to escape.
I’ll want to scream as I slap myself in the head, my hair entwining between my figures as I pull on it, fighting to not rip it completely from my scalp.
I try with all I am to just count.
1, 2, 3 I will never make it to 10.
My whole body is aching, screaming, I want to lash out, I want to hurt myself, I want to hurt anyone in my presence.
I want to break anything and everything that my trembling hands can reach.
I try to suppress it, I’ll hit myself, I’ll hurt myself. I fight with all I am to stay away from anyone.
But, I just can’t control it. I just snap. I explode, so quickly from the inside out, my heart starts racing, I feel like I’ve just injected a shot of meth into my arm, like I’m indestructible, my hands no longer shake, my nails dig into my palms as my fists form, as they blindly connect with any object in my path. Everything I destroy is so sickly satisfying, to the point, where I’m sexually craving the same treatment from someone else, I want hands around my throat, the centre of my sexual need, completely abused.
My throat is burning from my screaming and my verbal abuse at inanimate objects.
Then, it’s black. Everything feels black, I fall to my knees as I feel the adrenaline no longer pumping through my veins and I just fall into myself. The pain starts.
My head body, my body aching, the blood, the things I’ve destroyed, tears will stream down my face, my body trembling as guilt and shame begins to cover me, like a blanket. Hiding my body completely, consuming me again, with another emotion, caused by myself. I hate myself more. That voice starts whispering, to just give up, just end it. I feel scared, no, I’m terrified. Just laying there, listening to my heart, my head, plead with me to just end it all.
That’s, that’s what rage feels like to me.
I’m scared to let people stay near me. It happens so quickly. I don’t feel like myself. I’m not even sure who “myself” actually is.