Caged.

I am completely and utterly ashamed of myself.

Just a short while ago, I exploded with furious rage at my sister. The reason why I uncontrollably erupted is irrelevant. My actions were without merit. She, nor any other human being, deserves to be yelled at and berated in such a manner. My behavior is solely of my own choosing - no excuses.

I am a monster. I always have been. I find myself circling back to the beginning of this very blog. There's a caged beast of frenzied indignation just fuming inside of me - shaking the bars of its cell, grabbing at any who come near. Like a rampaging gorilla locked in a prison, it sits inside of me and waits in the darkness. Waits for the right moment to strike. Waits to destroy.

This guy gets me.

If ever there were a real life Bruce Banner / Hulk, it would be me.

For years, I shielded my younger siblings from the anger erupting from my father. No one deserved to deal with such horror, but at least I was best-equipped to handle the beast and absorb the blows. Now, as an adult, I spew forth that same atrocious bitterness, often times upon the very ones I love the most. What's wrong with me? Did I not see what such gross negligence could lead to? Just as an idiot whom keeps touching a hot stove, I now tread the very ground I so desperately tried to avoid all those years ago.

Am I doomed to become my father? No matter how much I struggle and squirm against the past, is there nothing I can do? Am I genetically predispositioned to morph into that which I came from? It's all just mind-boggling. And now... I'm left sitting here alone. I feel emotionally empty inside. Not angry or sad, just ashamed. The Hulk has returned to his cage and I'm left to clean up the mess he made.

I'm certain that I've done a better job of controlling my anger this past year. Yet, it seems that when the beast does manage to get out, the havoc is many times worse. This is a perfect execution of the quantity versus quality debate. Which is worse? More frequent outbursts of lesser severity? Or less frequent outbursts of greater severity? Either way, the balance remains unaltered. That anger is still inside of me. The underlying problem has not been fully corrected. I'm still on a course towards emotional oblivion.

I really need to right this ship before it's too late.

Julie... I'm sorry. You deserve better.

Fumbling and stumbling.

If I've learned anything from the last week, it's that I usually fail to recognize when I'm enraged. When I'm caught up in a moment of anger, I have a hard time seeing that I'm mad. Instead, I usually feel remorse after the fact when I've calmed down. This has taught me one thing - I must learn to recognize anger as it happens, process if it is logical, then calm myself down. Here's one example...

Earlier this week, I went for a bike ride as I do normally. As many of my friends know, I've started to ride a bike in order to lose weight. My large size is quite hard on my bike (just as hard as the riding is on my joints, but that's another story). Needless to say, lots of things will malfunction on my bike and require regular maintenance. Take my handlebars of instance. Regularly, they will rotate downwards as I ride the bike; so much so that the break grips will pitch straight up. At that point, I can't even use the breaks because I can't reach them. It seems no matter how hard or often I tighten the handlebar joint, they'll still eventually slip and rotate. Well, I reached my breaking point this week and lost my cool. I couldn't get my allen wrench into the handlebar socket to tighten it back down. After fumbling and stumbling, all the while getting madder and madder, I finally flipped out. I was already mad before I even attempted to fix the handlebars; my ride was totally uncomfortable and both of my wrists were screaming in pain.

Now imagine this next part...

I literally ripped my shirt off, hurled my water bottle and stormed off inside my house. I left everything in my bike bag - phone, wallet, keys, everything. I finished stripping, hopped in the shower and just let it all out.

I WAS A TOTAL MESS.

The take away from all this? I let my anger get the best of me. I 'hulked' out over nothing. Instead of staying calm and getting the right size allen wrench to fix the handlebar, I probably had the wrong size. Much less, I was letting my pain and frustration manifest in a manner that's not positive. What did I have to show for acting like a jerk? Nothing. This got me to thinking. What could I do to remind myself that my anger is in control WHILE I'm actually caught up in the moment? I need some sort of visual cue to tell myself that I'm not in charge at the moment. I'm still trying to decide what to use in order to cue myself. If any of my readers have suggestions, they're totally welcomed.

On a partially related side note, I came to see that my lifelong weight problem is absolutely linked to my emotional distress. The extra weight that I carry is a physical representation of my emotional baggage. As long as carry this extra weight, the emotional baggage that I carry will continue to haunt me.

I'm a thirty year old fat guy with daddy issues. Crazy, right?