I just did something I haven't done in a very long time, and I think it might help to type it out. This, like all my other little crises, is something I would never discuss with anyone, at least not anymore. There was a time and a place where I would talk about it, but that time is gone and so is she. I don't want to give all the details, it is the most personal secret I have, something nobody outside of my immediate family knows and it is likely to stay that way, but I can give an approximation, I think that would still do the trick.
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When I was a young Pancake, more of a silver dollar than a short stack, I had some problems. I don't want to go into what all of them were or what caused them, but I will say that among them was a severe anger management deficit. I would snap at the slightest provocation, and when I snapped I got violent. Very violent. I say this more out of regret and self-loathing than anything else: My own family, my own parents, were afraid of me. They legitimately thought that I would lose it one night and murder them while they slept. These fears were not entirely unfounded, and though I won't go into detail, I can say knives made frequent appearances. People say they "lose it" when they want to specify being angry, but I literally "lost it", and by "it" I mean control. My eyes went blank, my mind as well, and I attacked whatever was in front of me until I couldn't summon the strength to attack any more. It was so bad that I once nearly dislocated a shoulder struggling to break free of two grown men. When I was 9. I hated who I was, I hated my own existence, and I hated what I had done to my family. The anger went away, but it was replaced by worse things. That is a story for another day.
So, 15 minutes ago, I was chatting with a friend from school on FaceBook. We're talking about me turning green from Mountain Dew addiction, and I say that I would look less like The Incredible Hulk and more like The Wholly Credible Hulk. She says something about someone else Hulking out while I "hulk out", purely as a joke, and I laughed. But, for some reason, I decided to mention that if she ever sees my eyes go blank, she should get the hell away from me. I wasn't offended by her joke, I wasn't trying to prove anything, I just...typed it. She asked, quite logically, what would happen. I told her. I told her that I get violent. Not huffing and puffing and throwing haymakers violent, I get brutally, furiously violent. I use whatever weapons are nearby, I do not listen to reason. I pull no punches, I have no consciousness of who I am hitting or why. I go for joint locks, blood chokes, pressure points, and any other nasty little thing that happens to cross my mind. I become a rage-fueled psychopath who knows no surrender, knows no logic, and knows no pain. Even my friends are not safe if they are in my way, and I will hurt myself if it means hurting my victim. It is pure aggression and primal rage concentrated on one person in one instant, and it simultaneously fascinating to watch and very disturbing. Apparently I look like all the plugs for my brain fell out but the one that remembers how to take down a man in the most hyperviolent way possible.
Why is this relevant? I've never told anyone about this. I've mentioned that I used to have anger problems, I've even gone so far as to warn a very small group of my most trusted friends at school that if they ever, ever see me start to let go I should be restrained by any means necessary. But I have never actually explained what happens, what causes it, what I did. I don't know why I told her. I kind of freaked out after I realized what I had just done and tried to alleviate the seriousness with Mystery Men references, and I hope it worked, but I can't be sure. Everybody has a voice inside that tells them they are human garbage, a little person that reminds them of the worst thing they ever did. This is what my voice tells me. Sometimes, in my nightmares, I see my brother's face, or my dad's, or my sister's, when something happened. Under no circumstance would I ever tell anyone (barring you guys) about this. What made me do it now? Am I starting to become okay with it? Has it been long enough? Am I starting to trust people? You don't just reveal secrets you have hidden for 2/3 of your life, something has to change. What is it?