I fought it off.

Hindsight being 20/20, it wasn’t that bad; still, here I am recovering from a ravage of uncontrollable emotion and titanic anxiety.

The situation leading up to my unhealthy thoughts is trivial, now that I have rationally analyzed it; however, what is important is how I felt about it.

My anger, the first emotion to rear its ugly head, was so insurmountable, it caused me to leave class.  I walked to the restroom and locked myself in the handicapped stall.  I walked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Once the anxiety kicked, the mixture was impossible to handle.  I was so angry at others, at myself.  There was no way to handle it.  I was unprepared.

I washed my face, hoping to drown the heat from my boiling blood.  Nothing.

I looked at myself in the mirror.  “Punch it,” a voice said to me.  “You are angry, no, pissed.  Punch it and you will feel better.”

“No,” I thought.  I know it wouldn’t solve anything.  Not only would there be blood everywhere, there would be no way to hide it once I went back to class.

The voice, realizing it had failed, continued, “find something.  Cut yourself.  Your thigh.  That way, you can hide it.”

I’m not going to lie, it was tempting.  The thought of “hurting” myself seemed promising.  It would give me a pain greater than the one that existed internally.  I can only imagine the release of anxiety it would have given me.  I didn’t want to kill myself, as I have thought about it before and realized not only would it be unfair to let mere thoughts take my life, but it would be unfair to everyone else I leave behind.

Throughout this, I was texting my best friend’s girlfriend who has turned out to be a  good friend herself.  The messages were so abrupt.  She wanted to know what was wrong, but I couldn’t speak about what was happening because THAT would have taken me over the edge.

What seemed like 1 minute of pacing and thinking, turned out to be 15.

I finally knew what would help.  The one thing that smothers anger, sadness, and hopelessness: music.

Without my headphones, I was forced to go back to class, fumble through my book bag, and leave again.

I stood in the hallway, people walking past me left and right, just listening.  Allowing sweet melodies and harmonies reach my brain.

Finally, something to control the conflagration of anger and anxiety.  


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