R is for RRRRAAAAGGGE!!!

I like to think of myself as a kind and trusting individual. I think, for the most part, I do a good job of being a good friend and a genuinely lovely person. I have my muttering-curses-under-my-breath and rolling-my-eyes moments, but compared to my teenage years, they are seldom and, usually, for good reason when they do happen.

But every now and then, it's like Something overtakes me and is determined to make me look like the biggest jerk who ever walked the Earth. I describe It like a bubble of rage, somewhere in my diaphragm that lurks around within. It feeds off of every wrongdoing done to me (imagined or real) and prefers carbonated beverages. Confined to the torso region of my body, It doesn't get much exercise. Combine that with the number of soft drinks I consume, It simple grows and grows. I'm pretty sure this little Rage Bubble creature waltzes around my diaphragm, shaking one fist at the world and face-palming Himself with the other hand. 

I've never cared too much about Him freeloading; in fact, I avoid Him as much as possible. Being the "kind and trusting" person I am, I've never given much thought to evicting Him. I don't want to hurt His feelings, you know. But that has never stopped HIM from being a bit of a douche. It's like He never learned how to be socially normal or politically correct or even just nice. And when I least expect it, He jumps out of hiding and overtakes my body. Sometimes He makes me say things that I end up regretting, sometimes it's typing something that I should have thought through first. And sometimes He overtakes my actions ( a la dumping water on a friend, back-handing my sister, cutting someone off, etc). It's not a pretty moment and it's never nice.

Although I haven't evicted Him entirely (He has a lot of baggage, and it'll take sometime to clean up Hid mess), I've downsized His living quarters. I've given Him limited access and instructed Him not to act before running it by me first. He's not too pleased about the changes I've made, but I can say that I've had far less foot-in-mouth instances ever since! That doesn't mean I don't feeling Him seething around inside. Sometimes, I hear Him freaking out, yelling things that shouldn't even be thought of, and pounding against my heart as if to agitate me into action. But then I put down my Coke Zero, take a few deep breaths, and tell Him to get lost and watch TV or something. And life returns to rainbows and butterflies once more!