Highschool wasn’t easy for me.
I had been an outcast for as long as I could remember.(also, my father had died the year before I started highschool and my mom started dating some country hick asshole 3 months later) I was angry, I hated everyone, and I had a short fuse. I looked for reasons to get violent. Not like they were very hard to come by; the assholes liked to push me.
Eventually, I caught the attention of the school advisors. So they sent me to the school therapist. Which turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. I finally had someone who I could talk to who didn’t judge me. Someone who taught me, more than just how to control my anger, but how to let it go. I haven’t lashed out at anyone since.
Anyway, I guess I had always thought that, because I was the one who needed therapy that I was somehow the standard for “anger issues.”
But I’m in college now, and I’ve realized that that’s not true. You see, I wasn’t the standard for anger issues. I was just upfront about it. I didn’t hide it, because I hated the people around me so much and it’s not like I had a reputation to lose. So I got help.
What I realize now is that I wasn’t the standard, I was the exception. I got help. I got better. I learned to control myself.
It was the kids who stayed quiet that never got better.
These kids were the ones who “did well” in high school. They had enough friends to blend in. They got along with people enough that they didn’t get in trouble. They were model students. they kept their anger bottled up like good little boys and girls.
Those angry boys and girls become angry adults. They scream at their friends over stupid shit. they become psychopathically angry over the tiniest inconveniences.They let their anger out at any opportunity they can find. Like goddamn children.
My current roommate likes to yell at me if I ask her a question more than once. She yelled at me for watching a movie without her, even though I asked her if she didn’t mind before hand. She saw a bug and then yelled at me for asking her where the bug was because she “didn’t like the way I said it” and it “sounded like I was doubting her”.
My other roommate broke his hand because, after studying for a quiz in one of our classes, the teacher decided to cancel the quiz. After class, he punched a locker repeatedly until he broke his hand.
She likes to abuse others, he likes to abuse himself.
Anyway, I don’t know what the point of all this was. I just felt like saying it. They’re both still my friends. But I also know that, even though they would never say it out loud, they both think they’re a little bit better than me because at least neither of them ever needed ”therapy”. As if me needing someone to talk to about all the bullshit in my life some how made me a weak person?
Well at least I’m brave enough to admit when I need help. And at least I’m strong enough to control my anger, without needing to yell at my friends or injure myself.
You petulant fucking children.
rei and rin being friends
momotarou noticing rin’s cleavage
rin and sosuke fighting using paper rock scissors
this whole episode
rin this season