Most people describe anger in terms of heat. Fiery temper. Hot temper. Anger flares. It freezes me, hollows me out and makes me cold. It makes it easy to get in someone’s face and snarl, because when I’m frozen like that I don’t have to feel anything they say, or anything I might do. It earned me the nickname TinMan, being filled with anger and looking another person in the eyes holding a one muzzle to another. Spitting invective back and forth with noses touching and holding a barrel to a mouth inches from mine.
And he said I wouldn’t do it.
And he was wrong, because I was angry and frozen and cold. And he fell back bleeding and still bears scars from doubting me. And because I was angry, I promised him that next time I’d kill him.
Frozen, I looked another person in the eyes and broke bones.
Progress and progress and progress.
I did those things clean. My head was clear. And I was frozen and cold, and smooth and ice.
A roundabout way of describing dissociative rage. It's just like unplugging.
Sometime during that period where I didn't write much, I shot someone in the shoulder because he said I wouldn't, and he wouldn't leave me alone.
And then he did.