The Depression Portraits: the Anger

It flows slowly. You know it’s there, and you don’t know what to do with it. Some days, out of nowhere it gets heavy. And your heart feels like lead and there’s a tight grip on your stomach. All you want to do is yell. Grab your hair at the root, and pull while you scream from a place that lies dormant but you know exists. You catch up with a friend and you see your life spread out in front of you; and there’s nothing there to fill you with hope… Or pride… No thing’s fulfilling. You want to put your fist through a wall every time you are reminded of where you are. There’s the irritation you feel when people assume you’re “woe is me”. What you feel is disgust. Most days you can’t stand the sight of yourself. And God… You pray with no answers. Feels like he ain’t dealing with ya… Makes you question why you believe. The gnawing contempt you feel for your loved ones. You sit back while people ignore you because they think you’re permanently damaged. They don’t make conversation, because you’re “that way”. And it eats at you, til the thought of them makes you snap. You just want to break things, and smash faces… curse them, til they leave forever. And the more they treat you like you’re not you, the more your blood boils. The more your breathing becomes ragged. You were done before, But now you’ve had it. The irritation with yourself, the irritation with them all… When they ask you how you are, but light up when they turn to someone else… …Yet they can’t figure out what’s wrong. The frustration you fight to keep out of your voice, when they talk to you like a child… Or tell you not to be a certain way… The anger… That runs so deeply… You sometimes forget to breathe. But you lash out at random, you can’t always keep the anger at bay