I have finally grown into the person I have always wanted to be. And I am angry.

When I was in Europe, and this summer which I spent in Vermont, I had the same realization. I didn’t cry.

The whole time.

Before then, there very rarely went a week where I did not cry. It was often every day. I can’t imagine living like that now, and I am angry that I used to have to.

I am angry that I was stupid. I am angry that I was sad. I am angry that I am twenty one and just now learning how to live.

At the end of the day, when I lay down, I do not cry, and I am thankful for that. But I am still angry.

Why did my family raise me in such a mess? Why didn’t I realize the hell I was in when I was in it? Why didn’t other people in my family save me? Did they not see I was suffering, or instead did they not care?

Why didn’t I realize the same hell bred in my former relationships?

Why couldn’t I purge my smoky brain of anxiety and depression for so long? I can’t imagine going back to that, now.

Why? Why have I wasted so much of my youth?

I am angry, and I take it out on myself. Or, I did. I threw myself into work. Or, I do. I overwhelm(ed) myself on purpose. I shut myself away from people who could help. Why? Before, to protect myself from sadness. Now, to protect myself from anger.

How can I release it? How can I let it go?

I blaze like fire. You know why I’m back to this blog, this record of my depression, and it’s because even though I am happy, even though I am the happiest I’ve ever been, even though I see an escape, just on the horizon, even though I am in love with my boyfriend and my life and myself, and even though I have not cried in a record amount of weeks, I am angry.

This is the blog where I post my emotions. I just haven’t had enough emotions to post in the last six months. I have been good. I have been happy. But collecting under my newfound happiness is an anger, because I know I should have been this happy my whole life.

I will learn to let it go. I deserve to be free of anger.

I have done so much to get myself where I am now. I should release the past. I will.

I am free now, am I not? I am happy, and I refuse to feel guilty for my joy.


One thought on “Anger

  1. I can relay my years at your age, now in my seventies, I have matured to accept all that happened in those years, when I think back to those days and ask the same questions you are asking in my mind, I try to toss it aside, most times I win.
    Stay happy. Blessings.



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