Rage is when you are woken up to be told that your father is leaving the country in few minutes; for a few years of work and you need to hug him good bye; but you end up throwing and breaking things in the house because you don’t understand why.
“Why was I told last, when he is already packed?” “Why am I the least important person in this family’s decision making!” You shout. But you are just a 14 year old, your sister is 12 years and your brothers 6 and 5 years. You are not supposed to be bothered with adult decisions, they reason.
Anger boils deep inside you; you shout, you fight him, you cry so loudly like a wounded animal. From then on you hide the pain, the anger, the rage, the considered bad behavior because when he left, your butt welcomed the rod as a disciplinarian. You become withdrawn, faced with bipolar tendencies now and then. The anger builds up and the outbursts are rampant. Even a simple ‘how are you?’ sets you off.
Trees become your boxing bags when you are not sleeping away your depression. The sickbay becomes your room and the few high school friends you have think you are suffering from ‘love’ because your then boyfriend left the school. Not knowing that, that ended badly, ‘They always leave!’
Your bipolar tendencies make your male college classmates think you are twins, one is extremely happy and the other extremely rude and sad. College becomes a nightmare, you are always depressed, always putting up a show, only your pillow knows your night cries and outbursts. The headmaster too; he keeps checking up on you because he recognizes one of your problems.
Quitting school and life becomes an overwhelming desire, being still in one place is what’s most needed. You end up missing classes, hiding away in the bushes by yourself, you just remain still. Listening to the many voices reasoning in your mind. Life for you is nothing, you’d rather be dead than continue like this. Home is a no go place for you, they wouldn’t understand. So holiday schooling is always welcomed.
Rage is when you have rough sex(rape) your boyfriend because he ignored your texts and calls for two weeks. It is when the house walls know your knuckles so well, they have blood stains as proof. The standing mirror has met your feet, cups and plates; the floor. The TV has welcomed a shoe thrown at it and the laptop is in pieces. Your uncontrollable anger blamed on frustration has led to outbursts that have had you smash your car window screen because you locked the keys inside.
To be Continued