Anger suppression: You're Not the Only One

I spent forty-five dollars on an Uber just to get across the city in the rain because the L was stalled again and I’m sitting there in this sterile room that smells like industrial lavender and old… …

I am sitting here in the dark while the monitor on the nightstand crackles with Arthur’s breathing and I just want to scream. …

You want to tell her that the daughter she’s so proud of is just a machine that turns sweat into wire transfers. …

I work in the university archives—it’s mostly just cataloging old letters and digitizing brittle, dusty things—and honestly I’ve started asking for every single Saturday shift they have. …

I spent four years in the infantry being told that my body was a government-issued tool, and now I spend ten hours a day screaming at guys twice my age to "find their fire" because they can't finish… …

Every single morning I get up at five to change my dads sheets (he hates the plastic ones but what am I suposed to do? …

I am sitting on the floor of my kitchen at 2:14 AM surrounded by red paper scraps and half-empty containers of takeout because I burned the actual dinner. …

I typed in a simple prompt: "Write a graduation letter from an immigrant father to his daughter about sacrifice and pride. …

I am sitting on my fire escape at 2:14 am staring at the trash bags piled up on the curb three floors down and I am so incredibly angry that my chest feels like it’s being crushed by a hydraulic… …

I am sitting on the floor eating cold pad thai out of a plastic container and I have never been more furious in my entire life. …