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My Evil
12 years ago
A few years ago, I struggled with not only depression, but anxiety, anger, and many other emotions that I found difficult to cope with. A very typical teenage story, of being bombarded with alien expectations from school staff and parental figures, and dealing with the cruel acts of my peers.
During my last two years of high school, it wasn't too bad. I had begun healing from the emotional wounds of my previous six years of life. Things were looking up. But there was something else there. Something, prevalent, and powerful. Something I could barely hold back. It fueled me for so long, that I never realized exactly how persistent it had been in my life until recently.
There's a piece of me, a piece not many know of, or acknowledge as actually being there. Something... Vicious. And vindictive. Something angry, and far too willing to lash out. For the past four years I've kept it in check, dealt with it healthily, and even directed it toward some new creative projects. It's still been there, but I've been in control of it.
But now...
Now I'm not too sure who is in control.
Very recently, I have been treated very unfairly, and unprofessionally by my employers. In my own terms, I've been fucked over. And no matter how hard I grit my teeth and push through their bullshit, they continue to poke and prod me, as if they are having fun watching me squirm. Making a fool of me, forcing me to dance to their tune, and act on their whim.
There is hatred in me. An intense hatred. And every poke and jab is exacerbating it. I've told so many people that my willingness to act irrationally grows by the second, but they all seem to take it as a joke.
It is no joke.
My own emotions are consuming me from the inside, wearing away at my will to hold back my hand. With every second that passes, I truly grow weaker to this anger, and I don't know how much longer I can keep myself from breaking my knuckles over someone's skull.
I even dream about it now, what I want to do to the people who withhold my hard earned wages, who as I speak, lounge and live comfortably, while all I can do is pray that everything I've worked for wont disappear overnight.
I'm falling apart, and I'm afraid that what's left standing wont be able to distinguish between my loved ones and my enemies.
I'm scared.
During my last two years of high school, it wasn't too bad. I had begun healing from the emotional wounds of my previous six years of life. Things were looking up. But there was something else there. Something, prevalent, and powerful. Something I could barely hold back. It fueled me for so long, that I never realized exactly how persistent it had been in my life until recently.
There's a piece of me, a piece not many know of, or acknowledge as actually being there. Something... Vicious. And vindictive. Something angry, and far too willing to lash out. For the past four years I've kept it in check, dealt with it healthily, and even directed it toward some new creative projects. It's still been there, but I've been in control of it.
But now...
Now I'm not too sure who is in control.
Very recently, I have been treated very unfairly, and unprofessionally by my employers. In my own terms, I've been fucked over. And no matter how hard I grit my teeth and push through their bullshit, they continue to poke and prod me, as if they are having fun watching me squirm. Making a fool of me, forcing me to dance to their tune, and act on their whim.
There is hatred in me. An intense hatred. And every poke and jab is exacerbating it. I've told so many people that my willingness to act irrationally grows by the second, but they all seem to take it as a joke.
It is no joke.
My own emotions are consuming me from the inside, wearing away at my will to hold back my hand. With every second that passes, I truly grow weaker to this anger, and I don't know how much longer I can keep myself from breaking my knuckles over someone's skull.
I even dream about it now, what I want to do to the people who withhold my hard earned wages, who as I speak, lounge and live comfortably, while all I can do is pray that everything I've worked for wont disappear overnight.
I'm falling apart, and I'm afraid that what's left standing wont be able to distinguish between my loved ones and my enemies.
I'm scared.
Whatever happens, know that I'm here, and I hope that whatever powers that be are looking after you. You deserve better than this, and we all know it. While I'm not really in a position to do much of use, I hope that will change soon, and perhaps we can ban together and figure out how to improve the situation.