Rage

The morning started off normal enough. My alarm jolted me awake at 7:15 and after wishing I had another two hours to sleep, I rolled out of bed at 7:17, put on some clothes for modesty's sake, and stumbled down the stairs. The same routine every morning since I had been in the house.

Over the fan in the shower I could here some thumping coming from outside of the bathroom, meaning J was stirring.

I had a feeling that soon I would here the insistent knock on the door, letting me know that since he has risen, he expects to get in the bathroom as soon as possible. The knock comes, and I answer with a terse, "One minute."

I complete my routine and open the door. I was going to let it go, even though I was fuming.

He stands up from where he was sitting on the stairs like a little boy who's been pouting because he couldn't get his way.

"I don't know why you get so mad. Its 7:47. You're taking too long."

I know there is no way its that time and launch into an explanation of how I get up at the same time every morning and its not my fault if one morning he decides to get up at 7:30 and 8:00 the next. It wasn't fair and I'm not taking too long.

"Well I have to shave!" I start to explain again that he's just rude, and he can wait one minute before bothering me and rushing me and then he does it. He rolls his eyes at me.

There are two things you want to refrain from doing concerning me and they are patronizing me or thinking I'm stupid. Rolling his eyes was a direct link to patronizing in my mind. I can't stand being dismissed in that way.

So I lost it.

A red mist descended in front of me and became detached from my body. I screamed, I swore, I hit things, slammed things and stomped away.

How dare he?

I can't handle anger. I was shaking and teary for a good two hours after the incident. My body just can't handle the rage. It just wells up inside of me until I become something alien to myself. I get my temper from my dad. He rarely gets angry, but when he does its so frightening you can't believe that this man is the same person. I'm the same way. Some what akin to the incredible Hulk, but with out the strength part. That is probably a good thing or there would be holes in the walls of the apartment. One would have been J shaped.

That's why J was probably only the 5th or 6th person to see a reaction like that from me. Three are my parents and older brother and the other two are exes, C and M. M saw it only once and learned his lesson. I am easy going and very slow to anger, in fact, I rarely ever get mad, but it was time I suppose.

It was building up. I had kept my cool for most of the move-in process, through the rent dispute, through the dishes debacle and furniture arrangement. I didn't get mad when he used my down comforter for him and some chick and the put it back half hanging out of the duvet cover in a disprespectful way. I let that all go, but that morning I couldn't.

I scared him. He showered in the other bathroom. He doesn't get it though and I sincerely think that he never will. To him, the world will always revolve around J and only J.

At least now he'll think twice about rushing me in the bathroom.

Its been a long week and that was just part of it. The new person at work, the all-work staff meeting, unfulfilled promises from unworthy boys, A having a different girl over every night, thus banishing me to my room lest I become the third wheel. Its just been exhausting this week. I'm glad tomorrow is Friday. The long weekend will be a welcomed reprieve from my life. I'm going into hiding at my parents and I hope I'll be able to start fresh on Tuesday!