Rage and withdrawal and a heart shaped mirror

As I’ve mentioned before, my friend Dorothy Black blogs “random hearts”. Well today I found an accidental one, on my way to my car. It had been a terrible day. Not the worst day. But I managed to live up to my enemies’ image of me and get into an argument with someone, which left me more depressed and exhausted than I can say.

Losing my temper feels righteous. For about five seconds – after which I realize what I’ve done. Then, coming off the rage is the worst feeling in the world. Having seen people fail to come down off meth, I find myself comparing the withdrawal to what I feel the moment the anger abates, leaving me empty and ashamed, dying for a reason to believe I acted fairly, wanting to cry.

Someone would have driven over it. It's hanging form my rear view now.

So it was one of those days, and when I found this heart shaped mirror lying on the tar mac in the school parking lot, I took a picture of myself reflected in it and hung it from my mirror. I can’t afford to be defeated, or hate myself, or give up. I’ve come too far and pissed off too many people to stop now.

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