I have random moments when I just snap. It’s never the result of one unfortunate event - usually a slew of small things will build up, until I just lose my mind. Here’s how it happened today. Today, I got home and saw that someone in my family - which ended up being my dad - had opened up my mail. I HATE when people touch my things without my permission. Yesterday, someone asked me if I had children of my own. The day before that, I was called a monster by a customer for politely asking him to step to the side so that I could serve the next customer. That was the first time in my life that someone had called me a monster. I’m pretty sure that most people would not understand that feeling. I was filled with rage, because I was being called a monster, even though I had done nothing wrong. I fucking hate it when people touch my possessions without asking first, especially if it’s done when I’m not around to watch them. I hate the fact that I look older than I actually am and I am so jealous of everyone who looks younger than their actual age. And seriously, there is no need to call anyone a monster. Fuck, you shouldn’t say it to someone who is a quarter of your age, you old fuck. I hope you get run over by a car and die a long, torturous death. This is the kind of side of me who I would never let anyone witness aside from my immediate family. Because inside my head, I am throwing everything I see against a wall or on the floor; hell, I am cracking glass bottles on people’s heads. I am slamming doors a thousand times, and I am shouting and swearing. I am stabbing pillows. And then I am running away from home with a small bag packed because I just can’t take it anymore. Then I think - maybe there really is a monster inside of me.