The Integral of F(x) from a to b is FUCK YOU

I ran away. I emptied the last few hundred dollars out of my checking account, grabbed my laptop, and ran. I didn’t really have a choice. I’m okay though. I actually feel really good.

My calculus teacher was being a dick today. He gave us another quiz. Got angry when I was wrong. “The derivative is right there! Why the hell would you use Parts on that? That is classic U-Substitution!”

His voice was making me angry. He wouldn’t stop talking. The rage grew and grew. I grabbed a pen and stood up. My classmates started screaming. It suddenly felt hot and sticky in the classroom. People were still screaming as I left. No one seemed to be reacting yet. Everything seemed to slow down and get really quiet.

I guess I was wrong. People did care.

They’ll probably find me soon. Everyone knows what I look like. I don’t have a car.

But that’s okay. I’m pretty sure this is what happiness feels like.

Sick Day

I wasn’t feeling too well after yesterday, so I went to the nurse and she gave me the day off. I am alone in my room. Just me and my hate.

I told it to go away. It said that it was comfortable here. I curled up under my bed, gripping the blade of my knife. It laughed at the pain.

It won't let me die.

Dreams of Wrath

I had a dream last night in which I met my anger. For once it wasn’t a part of me. Wrath stood in front of me in a billowing, rolling, burning cloud of hate. I told anger to leave me alone and rage set me on fire. My veins were filled with smoke and I burned burned burned until I was ash and embers and smoke.

When I woke up I could still feel the hate inside my skin. I needed it out. I couldn’t stand it. I tried to cut it out. I tried until I was a quivering mess curled in the bottom of the shower.

I can still feel it inside me.

It's been there since I died.

Last Living Memory

I was thinking about it, and I think I figured out my last memory of being happy.

It was over the summer, and I was exploring through the woods around my house. I had my dog with me and my adventuring cap on and it was a hot and humid day, but it felt nice to be outside and in the forest again. And my dog dug something up. It was a box. Just a plain tin box with nothing inside but dust. It reminded me of some of the old tin boxes I used to burn stuff in in my room when I was bored.

I thought it was an awesome treasure even though it was empty, and I brought it back with me. I still have it in my room somewhere.

I think it was a nice feeling, being happy.

Someone I Used To Be

I used to be better than this. I used to be a good person. Last year, I was still at this school, still taking this level of classes, but I was so much better. I still got straight As. I got along with everyone. I participated. My teachers liked me. I had friends.

I don’t know what happened. That’s not me anymore. I used to see glimpses of her at times, but I don’t anymore. She’s been completely replaced by me. Stupid hateful angry me.

I hate myself for that. I don’t deserve to live for destroying such a good person.

Fuck Calculus

Calculus is the worst. I would be doing fine in that class if it weren’t for those stupid fucking quizzes the teacher keeps giving. How the fuck am I supposed to get a good grade when he only asks two questions and one of them is next to impossible?

I want to kill my teacher. I bet his daughter wouldn’t even care. She’s in my class too.

Fuck School

I hate school. I hate these classes. I hate my teachers.

I used to love school. I used to be great at it. I could sleep through my classes and still get straight As. Now it’s like I can’t understand anything. It’s like I can’t hear the lesson over the rageragerage in my head. I try to focus; I try to understand, but I can only look at the teacher for a few moments before there’s a voice in my head telling me to stab my pencil into his throat.

I Hate Waiting

I need help. I don’t want to wait. I keep thinking about hurting my friends. Stabbing them with that knife I snuck into my room. The other day I had a dream in which I stabbed my scissors into my roommate’s eye, twisted them around and stood over her bleeding body until the authorities came to take me away. I woke up smiling. It disgusts me.

I don’t want to hurt my friends. It’s my job to protect them. Protect them from others and protect them from myself. I have to force down the rage and sit on my hands until I trust myself. When I’m alone I turn my anger on myself. That helps. It helps a lot. It drains the anger out and leaves me trembling and empty.

I wonder if that’s what it’ll be like when I hurt someone else.

Anger Management

After I talked to my mom, she made me talk to the nurse at the school, who gave me some numbers for counseling centers to call. They were all really busy so my appointment is several weeks from now. I don’t think that will be a problem. If I’ve made it this long, I can wait a few more weeks.

My mom told me something else, too. “The only one that can help you while you’re at school is yourself.”

Ha. I’m screwed.

Why I am Angry

I finally told my mom about my problems. She asked me what I thought was causing it. I told her the truth (for once). I have no idea what is causing this. Sometimes I’m in my room and it bubbles up and I just have this urge to destroy. Sometimes it’s when I go outside and I see people and they look so stupid and ignorant and happy and I hate them so much. I want to make them feel pain. I want to see suffering in their eyes.

I didn’t tell my mom all that, of course. I can’t have her figuring out what is really going on in my head. She would flip her lid. I just told her the I don’t know part.

But then she was telling me that a lot of different things could be causing it. Stress, chemical imbalances in my brain, or “something bad could have happened to you when you were a little kid.”

That freaked me out. Why would she say that?

I don’t remember anything bad happening to me, but she said that that could be the case too. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m not even angry right now. I’m fucking terrified.

Things That Work

So here are some things that consistently work to dissipate this anger:

•          Punching things
•          Punching people
•          Breaking things
•          Hurting people
•          Hurting myself

And now for some things that sometimes work to dissipate my anger:

•          Writing
•          Drawing
•          Screaming
•          crying

And things that never work:

•          Holding it in
•          Telling myself to stop
•          Someone else telling me to stop

Me

At one of those stupid floor meetings they make us have here, I was told that writing can help with anger management. So this is me, attempting to manage my anger.

I’m not feeling any less angry, but at least this occupies my hands so I’m not breaking things again.

Things I hate

I hate Sundays.

I hate this school.

I hate the shitty food they serve us.

I hate people.

I hate myself.

I hate everything.

I hate being so hateful.