When Life Gives You Anger . . .

. . . make some really angry lemonade.


This is going to be a very, very weird question.

But, I must ask my fellow bloggers, my blogsters, all you blogging bloggers of the blogsphere:

Have you ever felt the need to really hurt someone? Either physically or mentally?

If you have, was there something within you that urged you along? Did you despise yourself or your life in someway? How much of your anger towards others has ever been a reflection of your own anger directed inward that perhaps you never noticed?

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about bullies, about manipulators, about those parents who go on day time talk shows and swear to the God they put their knees on the filthy floor for that one day their child will grow up and be the next Columbine Shooters or the next creepy old guy down the street who secretly severs the heads of corpses in his basement.

There’s a difference between the columbine shooters, or the kid that brings a gun to school, or the bullies in the hall, and people in terrorist groups like ISIS who are brainwashed into believing what they are doing for a divine power–if we consider the divine power their own arrogance and delusional pride in their country.

The kid that brings a gun to school is not brainwashed, and they’re not always bullied. Something else is going on.

People spend enormous amounts of time trying to figure out just why these kids seemingly flip a switch.

tumblr_inline_mjksn3cctm1qz4rgpI was never a child who fantasized about shooting up the school. I was, however, a master manipulator. Although I stayed silent, I’m very good at mimicking behavior and observing how others interact with each other. I didn’t understand how friendships were made, or how they were maintained, or why I never felt like a human among all the other humans, but I did form a sort of algorithm in my head. It essentially mapped out words, expressions, and personalities.

I could smell bullshit from a mile away.

I could smell a genuine soul from a mile away.

I couldn’t talk to you, and sometimes I couldn’t understand what you asked me, but if you wanted a personality profile, I could whip it up in five seconds easily.

I gained a sort of arrogance from this, because suddenly I had a power. Suddenly I knew more about these people then they knew that I knew. Suddenly I could sniff out the quiet kids in class, the ones that were easiest for me to talk to because their personalities were often hidden under anxiety or general disinterest, and snatch them.

I had teachers eating out of my hand, so when I got in a fight on campus with a girl faker than a stick-on tattoo, the teacher blamed her and let me walk away. I dealt and smoked drugs under their noses, I passed classes without ever turning in homework. I had some kids afraid of me, others wanting to, quite literally “follow” me.

Suddenly I had another power, all based on beating others down. And that, to someone consistently emotionally neglected at home, someone who had no real place to fit in other than in her head, someone who ached so terribly inside that shoving that on others created this weird “confidence”, was priceless.


Many people with anxiety, or trouble speaking up, get bullied. Most people are surprised when I tell them I never did. I never did because I was the bully. And I will admit I’ve often had trouble understanding people’s pain of being bullied. My response was, very unemotionally: “well, fight back”.

But I know it’s not that easy for some. I didn’t learn to respect that until I was around nineteen years old.

I often went after people who could not, or would not, stand up to me. They were the easiest to feed off. The lower they sunk to the ground, the better I felt. I was like that snake in the grass you can’t see, so when you creep around with your back turned, I sink my teeth in your fleshy ass globes.

There were a few times I attacked some people making fun of special needs students, and those special needs students ended up becoming my friends throughout the years. I still consider those justified.

Anxiety is a beast:


Anger is a behemoth:


I see red when enraged, and I black out. I’m one of those kind of people.

So when people got an idea that they would try and talk down to me or argue with me, I would be in their face in a split second, fist ready. And yes, I’m a girl. I didn’t put up with bullshit because I had to put up with bullshit at home.

But what I find most interesting about all these experiences is that . . . you know how you find someone and feel such a strong love or adoration for them, that it spreads from person to person? Now that I’m older, and much less prone to be ignorant (although perhaps still a little manipulative, I’m not proud of it), I find it very ironic that inner pain works in very much the same way. If you’re pained inside, it spreads. If you have much love inside, it spreads.

Often, the pain on the inside, if it’s strong enough, overshadows that love and as a result, you have someone willing to hurt others for the sake of feeling paid attention to, for the sake of having an outlet, for the sake of having a moment of power in a world, or environment, that makes you feel powerless.


That seems obvious. But I think it’s often overlooked when it comes to bullies, mass shootings, or fighting in general. If this is how our kids and our world reacts to each other, what does that say about the vibes we’re spreading? 

This isn’t a behavioral problem. This isn’t a mental health problem. This is an inner peace problem. This is a power struggle problem. This is a competitive problem. This is a problem of people feeling like they need to better than the next person, so that next person feels they need to be better than the next person, and so on when in reality none of it matters once you’re lowered in the ground.

This post was inspired by some thoughts I left on another blog, and my own urges tonight. Often I get uncontrollable urges (that I usually manage to control) to fight someone. I just want to grab someone by the hair and smash their teeth into the ground and kick their throat in, or I want to tell someone to come toke a bowl or two with me. I want to feel that power of being in control as I drown in an environment and head of mine that is so utterly out of control.

Not Going To Argue

The first step to rationalizing your feelings is understanding them on a logical level. Anger is something I’ve struggled with for many, many years. This helps.

10 thoughts on “When Life Gives You Anger . . .”

  1. Hello! How are you today? I’ve read your Blog Posts and I gotta tell you, I am very amazed and astonished with your Writings. I hope to read more of your posts. I will definitely follow your Page and I hope you can follow me back. Thank you!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi, I’m doing alright thanks for asking. How are you doing? Thank you very much for reading and commenting and following, I really, really appreciate it. I’m glad you enjoy the content! I really like your blog as well! Enjoy the rest of your day:) …or night:)

      Liked by 1 person

  2. This was a great read. Honestly, hell yeah I’ve thought/wanted to hurt somebody. I was bullied pretty bad in school, I was an easy target I guess you could say. But I think it’s cool you opened your mind up at 19 about bullying and being the kid that’s bullied. But this post is great!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! On behalf of all former bullies, I’m sorry you got bullied. Yeah, It took me a while to realize exactly how I was acting. Or, I guess I should say I was always aware of how I acted, I just never felt the need to change it. It was just easier to be angry at people than actually make a connection. anyway, thanks, and hope you’re doing well:)

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Thanks so much for your bravery in opening up like this. Profound stuff and good writing. I would say that there haven’t been many times in my life when I deliberately tried to hurt people (or I’ve blocked them out). But I’m kind of ADD, and I know I have hurt or annoyed people because I was thinking about myself (“it’s all about me”) and not thinking about how my words or actions would affect others. One thing your blog has done is give me insight about a couple of times I did deliberately hurt people close to me when I was about four or so. Today it occurs to me I must have acted that way because of unfortunate things happening to ME at that time…things that ultimately made me STPD. But (1) overall my parents were kind, (2) I saw the pain my deliberate actions caused in my targets, (3) my older sister called me down in at least one incident and (4) the catalyst for my problems moved away when I was about six, and over the years I rarely saw that person again…..So, although I’m sort of kooky now, I have been very lucky in general, and much luckier than many people who were bullied or who were groomed to be bullies. AND perhaps most amazing, we didn’t have “mean girls” in my classes at school! I.e., the popular girls in our school were very kind. Although in school I was always a follower and not a leader, my best friend in grammar school was the most popular student, and one of my best friends in high school was very popular. Since the kind, truly friendly girls were the leaders, the rest of us benefited.
    Sounds like you may be turning into a kind and friendly leader.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hey there! Thanks for the compliments, I appreciate it :). I’ve done that too, hurt/annoyed people because I only focused on myself, and then later on I’m like well, shit. But yeah, I feel like sometimes when we’re in a whirlwind inside of our own mind, we have trouble stepping outside of that and paying attention to how other people are affected. Although, many times, for me, my actions were purposeful.

      Yeah, you know I’m meeting more and more people who never really had that cliche sort of “popular kids” “mean girls” experience in school, and sometimes I think movies just hype that up. I expected that kind of treatment in high school, but really the popular kids kept to themselves. There was one girl my senior year who tried getting pissy with me, constantly, like she was TRYING to get me angry but I was on medication at the time and really uninterested in people in general. She should consider herself lucky. But anyway, that’s great your school days were like that. It’s an easier ride when people are kind and considerate. And thank you. Perhaps one day I will be.


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