What is rage. ^trigger warning?


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.


Sullen girl.


I’m frustrated and only my actions provoked it, and I’m disgusted at myself because I did the right thing.

It all started this morning, I was casually creeping around the internet, looking for something new to listen to, and I came across an artist called Angel Haze, called “cleaning out my closet” now I just assumed that she was doing a cover of Eminems’ track, so I downloaded it.

Once it has downloaded, I messed around a little, because you know, I might get a once in a lifetime deal on eBay, on something I do not need at all.

Pressed play on the song and hearing the exact same music as the original, and it lead me to believe that my assumption was correct.

I was so fucking wrong

I was fine until the details, she went into so much fucking detail, that I could smell that smell that fucking lingers.

Then I just lost control. I think fight or flight kicked into gear, because I do not understand how I got into the kitchen, and was vomiting all over the floor, like the pig I am, which surprisingly isn’t even the reason why I’m mad.

The rage only started once I realised that I acted out of fear, because of the words.. In a song. So I then proceeded to start trashing my house, which made me completely fucking lose it, and I instantly decided that I needed to hack myself for being the biggest fucking simpleton imaginable, continuing my path of bullshit destruction on my way.

It was only until I was standing in the mirror, glaring at my reflection with nothing but disgust and hate, did I finally have a moment to catch up with what was actually happening.

I was no longer angry, I was fucking terrified, so I spent most of the day in that in that spot on the bathroom floor. I didn’t hurt myself, if I’m entirely honest, I just sat there and cried, like a baby.

Once I pulled myself together slightly, I walked back hot into the kitchen, and was able to fit together what the fuck I had just did, and I just started cleaning before anyone came home and started asking questions, and I would have to provide answers that I just did not want to answer at all, and they would make a mountain out of a mole hill, and I had that handled just fine by myself.

Any other person would have calmed down in the hour and half I spent cleaning up after my own idiocy, but it just allowed me to get angry again.

Which, this might sound fucked up to you, but I was angry that I didn’t really fuck myself up, I was shitty that I buckled and laid on the floor, when I should have probably just ended it then and fucking there.

Which caused me to be my own worst enemy,(again) and it frustrated me more because logically, I knew the silliest thing would have been to harm myself. I could safely use the analogy “angels fighting with devils” comfortably, and the only way I could see this being temporarily fixed was to sleep, so I took four Xanax and curled up under my childish leopard print blanket.

It’s been serval hours since I have woken up, and I still don’t understand what happened, all I know is when I heard her rapping, with perfect descriptions, I smelt it in a more precise way than she could ever express in a rap.

I’m still confused and annoyed, because I have been in situations that have been considered triggering, and it hasn’t provided anything other than different levels of uncomfortable.

I thought typing this out, and being able to see it in front of me, and maybe see it from a different perspective, but no I’m still angry.

But, what’s even worse than my rage, is that I am scared.

I don’t know how to handle myself, I haven’t felt this scared in a long time, I don’t know how to cope with myself, or even fully understand what happened.

WARNING I am not exaggerating the length of description used in the song, so if you decide to listen to it, be careful.