Dear You Part 7

Dear You,

Anger roils around you in harsh tendrils, and it’s terrifying. That’s not all of who you are, but when your eyes flash and you let go of reason, anger consumes you and I can no longer see who you are. Sometimes, I think you forget, too.

You remind me of him. It’s not what you want to hear, that sparks your anger just hearing it, but you do. There are days that pass where you are completely different; thoughtful, intuitive, happy. But the other days are awful; dark, tense, scary. It makes my stomach hurt when I hear you and see you act that way. I don’t think you realize the effect you have on people when you shift into dark-mode. It’s uncomfortable, heartbreaking, sickening. That separate part of yourself is always under the surface, and when things change from what you expect them to be, or if things go wrong, it’s only milliseconds before you flip and the room gets colder, and the feeling of the sun slipping behind the clouds takes over. You become not you, but a different form of you. I do everything I can to temper the darkness, but It’s not enough, you need to be able to control it. But I’m not sure you can.

Can you feel it? When the change happens? Or does it just cloud your thoughts and you disappear for a little while until the rage is over and it recedes back into you until it’s sparked to life again? I can breathe again when I see the light part of you return, when your eyes focus and your face is no longer tense with rage. When your hands relax from balled fists and your shoulders are no longer stiff. I can breathe again, but I know it’s only a short while before the other side returns and my breath is once again taken away.

You hurt her when you act like that, you know. She gets sad and I can’t blame her. I think she partly blames herself for not separating you sooner, for allowing you to be around him so much that he soaked into you. He might not be around us anymore, but part of him is always there, within you, and I’m sorry for that.

I don’t mean to blame you for this, I know at least some of it is uncontrollable, but I do wonder if there’s anything that can help with the intense anger. If you talked to him again, told him how much you hated him, how much you loved him, if it would at least curb the outbursts. I’m no longer enough of a buffer between you and others. I’m not around enough for that. This is something you have to learn to control because if you don’t, you will be just like him, and I know you don’t want that.

There is lightness in you, a good, kind, intelligent light that shows through. But if the darkness isn’t controlled, the light may be lost, and when the light is lost, there is little chance of it coming back.

**A**