Control | Teen Ink

Control

April 13, 2009
By Sarah Trench SILVER, Southwick, Massachusetts
Sarah Trench SILVER, Southwick, Massachusetts
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax.
I kept repeating that to myself. I couldn’t let the anger overwhelm me. I’d seen what that was like. One of my closest friends always let the anger take over. Always. And it seemed so futile.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax.
I closed my eyes. What could anger bring me? Nothing. Nothing but dissatisfaction. It could never bring me what I want. That’s what anger is all about. Want.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax.
I clenched my hands, fingernails digging into palms. There’s nothing wrong with want. But the kind of want that anger brings…it’s toxic. Deadly. Nothing good comes from it. Anger is all about the want to hurt someone or something, to make them pay. That couldn’t make me happy.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax.
I hugged my arms to my chest. Suffering breeds suffering. Hate makes for more hate. And retribution leads to more retribution. Never happiness. Never soothing. Always pain. That wasn’t what I needed. No. It couldn’t be what I needed. Not pain.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax.
I released my hands. Bringing someone else pain could never make me feel better. It couldn’t erase anything. And what if it didn’t work? What if I didn’t succeed? That would only bring more frustration. More anger. Less control. That’s the real purpose of anger. To find control. Control that’s been lost. And I had control. I had it. I didn’t need to find it. I had it.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax.
I opened my eyes, exhaled. I did have control. Over myself, at least.


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