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Most individuals off the bat assume that I am a violent person, that I'd kill someone, just based on my facial expressions, how quiet and reserved I am. Truthfully, I wouldn't, if I happened to be fully aware of what I'm doing. But, to some degree, my peers are correct; I am indeed violent to some degree. But, that isn't exactly something so easily controlled, contrary to what others believe. It's as irritating as being told that happiness is a choice. Emotions are based on chemicals in the brain. If I'm unhappy or angry, it's not because I choose to be. And I am very unhappy, and always angry. Depression and rage, what a combination. Even worse, when said rage is provoked in some way. For instance, I'm forced into an unnecessary confrontation; by the end of it, I honestly consider murder. Of course, I never go through with it; often times, I'd hurt my own self to keep from hurting others. But, that seems to make things worse; more conflict ensues. I have no real outlet that works; everything I try, I'm still enraged. For hours on end, I'm enraged. So much so that I'm often greeted with...unpleasant thoughts. Sometimes, I can so vividly picture myself hurting someone, cackling all the while until I'm completely splattered with their blood. It's an awful thing, really, but it's not something I can control--and believe me, I've tried. Therapy isn't exactly an option, either, so I'm always experimenting with what works.
Venting online. Nope. Expressing my rage has seemed to upset others. And, unfortunately, I tend to care what others think...eh, sometimes.
Video games. Nope. Even hours after, I'm still infuriated. Even now, about four or five hours later, I'm still enraged.
Writing things out. That doesn't seem to work anymore. I'm a bit of a poet, but I haven't been able to compose anything for quite some time. It just makes me angrier.
But, at the same time, I have often been regarded as very kind by others. I try to be. And, for the most part, I am. But, not many people are aware of just how angry I am on the inside. I can't exactly talk it out, either. Well, not to people I know. One of the last times I'd tried, some people grew afraid of me. My family has grown quite wary of me, as well. More than once, I'd been threatened with being sent a way to a mental facility. Perhaps that's what I need, but I'd rather not go there.
Many people regard me as an amazing person, even those aware of my rage. But, still...sometimes I can see the wariness, the unease in their eyes. Sometimes, I'm even regarded as psychotic. But, am I? In all honesty, I'm more mentally stable than a lot of others out there in the world. Not to say I'm not unhinged. I'm aware that I am.
People tend to expect to see me in only one way, and are quite unsettled when I don't meet their expectations. When one goes past the surface, the RBF and reserved nature, they often see a sweet, innocent person whom everyone appears to adore, though I can't imagine why. Based on a review of my previous ranting, I seem to be the scourge of the earth, something contributing to what's wrong with the world. Granted, what I had posted was uncalled for, but that's the thing about ranting. You say what you feel at the moment. But, I suppose I can't feel rage, bloodlust. When I do and I express it, people are often horrified at what they find. The first time a person sees how wretched I can be, they have a sort of...expression. It seems to say, "You're not what I expected." But just what do people expect of me?
I appear too kind, I am seen as a doormat. I appear to care little of what others think, I'm seen as calloused. I appear angry, I'm meant to be on some watchlist (no joke, I actually was, once). I appear sad or depressed, which I often am, I am told to choose happiness, as if emotions are something to be chosen. What exactly do others want from me?
Of course, I can't please everyone, but there are always those in the world who feel their opinions should be taken as fact, that I should take their words to heart and be what they want me to be, say what they want me to say, do exactly what they want me to do, regardless of whether I know them personally or not. Of course, people are entitled to express their own thoughts and feelings...but that's just the thing. Everyone is entitled to that, but there are those who view such feelings as wrong; some are, though, I will attest to that, but as humans, we have a tendency to lean towards the wrong thing to do. And not every thought equals action. I have carefully planned out my own demise since the beginning of my teenage years, and still, I have yet to carry this out. There are people who think of sprouting wings and flying, but that doesn't mean such a thing will occur.
I wonder why it is that we're expected to conform to another's expectations, but then expected to be our own person. I have learned that being one's self is fine, so long as others approve of it. Society appears to be its biggest hypocrite.
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