I am a compressed rage. I am a fearsome thing.

I'm never going to stop being angry. Like a tree growing around a fence, I don't know how to let go.

Most times now I think I'm over it and then something will remind me. A small trigger. And then I'm furious again. I could scream and cry and rage. But I tamp it back down and close the lid again. Because screaming and crying and raging won't fix it. I am never going to stop being angry.

I am a compressed rage. I am a fearsome thing. I didn't let it break me, but instead let it push me forward harder and faster. I have sharp edges and sensitive spots. So I officially apologize if I get irrationally upset over something that seems trivial to you. Something about houses or babies or drugs or money or being cared for. I am never going to stop being angry.