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.