When You Hurt the One You Love

Speak when you are angry, and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.
– Ambrose Bierce

There was yelling. Screaming actually. Yeah, a lot of screaming. And a lot of it was coming from me. Harsh sounds. Violent words. I didn’t mean any of them, but it was unstoppable at this point. Vicious sentences spiraling out of me like word vomit in its finest form. I had reached a new level of meanness that can only be found in the deepest, darkest corners of my hellish soul.

It was a complete meltdown. I lost all regard for impulse control and human decency. I could not control myself. Tears were spilling down my face, my heart racing; it felt like I couldn’t get enough air to my lungs, yet somehow I still had plenty to waste on callous words that were directed at you. But they weren’t meant for you, no. They could never be meant for you. You just happened to be present for when I broke.

It was cruel, it was unkind. Brutal to any witnesses, which thankfully, there were none. Uncontrollable rage is not only embarrassing, it is a threat. I can’t remember the exact words that were said – I only remember a black wave washing over me. The rational side of me had been completely erased. There was no bringing me back. No holding me back. It felt as if the rational part of me was present, but could never quite get a grip on the situation well enough to stop the anger from seething out of my pores.

I had pretended to be okay for far too long, and everything had built to this point – my brain simply couldn’t take it anymore. That’s not an excuse whatsoever, but when all you’re raised with is shoveling your emotions aside, the torment of holding everything in for so long can only end in something like this.

And now, now that the anger, the rage, the tears – now that they have subsided, what else is there left to say other than apologies? But I know no amount of apologies in the world will ever be enough. Not for you to forgive me (you with your selflessness and heart of gold forgave me instantly), but for me to forgive myself. I could not, should not, ever treat you like that. It is unacceptable. Unforgiveable, I say. You say, it’s already forgiven and forgotten. But my wrath came down on the wrong person. The wrong people. My misplaced aggression found a home in you, and how ironic it is that we always hurt the ones we love the most.

I could never face my demons until they were all that I knew. And I’m so sorry that you were there when they clouded my mind and needed a verbal escape. I’m sorry that you had to bear witness to my struggles, to my scars, to my monsters. They’ve followed me around for years now. I had gotten so used to them they almost became a comfort of mine. Maybe they stuck around for so long because I learned to accept them. Maybe because I could never let go. Maybe because I could never forgive. Or maybe because I never wanted to be rescued. Never thought I could be rescued. But then you…

I never meant to hurt you. To say those things. I’m sorry my anger boiled over and you received the brunt of the burns. I was hostile, and you were my hostage. Stuck in that room with me where I wanted to annihilate everything in my line of sight. But I only had an eagle eye for you.

I can’t explain why I did what I did. I know I needed that release, I know I was irrational, and I know that I can’t let my demons win again. I had nowhere else to go, nowhere else to turn, so I screamed. I cried. And it was in those moments that you saw me at my absolute worst. I cracked. The rage had finally escaped and enveloped me completely. But amongst my vengeful aim, you were never supposed to be the target. You, the one I love, I am so sorry. I was a loose cannon, but know that I am now secure in my holder. Help is on the way, I promise. I will get better. I will be better. I will escape the darkness that has consumed me. And you are the light that has led me out multiple times before. Please don’t go out on me. Please don’t give up on me.

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