Shattered Glass

“Are you okay?” my brother, Josh, yelled.

“Ummmm,” I responded.

He then came running into the laundry room. He saw the broken glass of the back door. He looked at me, “What happened?”

“I was mad and slammed the door closed. Then the glass just broke.”

“You know you have to call mom, right?”

“I know. I’ll call her later.” I went upstairs to my room. I was still pissed.

All throughout my childhood I heard, “Think before you act.” I knew that I had to do this and I usually did, unless I was angry. If I was angry there was no stopping me. You couldn’t calm me down. I just had to find an outlet for my anger, and then be left alone. What’s worse is it’s easy to make me angry. So sometimes a little problem would set me off.

It isn’t always anger that makes me not think. One time when I was younger, my brothers and I were playing around. My twin Nick and I were trying to keep my older brother out of our room, I was having fun. My brother found a walking stick and put it in the space between the door and the doorframe. I should have stopped for a moment, to think it was a bad idea to close the door. I was having too much fun to think. So I pushed the door as hard as I could. The door snapped off of the hinges. Out of fear, we decided not to tell my father. He found out anyways and wasn’t too angry.

When I was 14 my brothers took a joke too far. This made me very angry. I walked out of the living room and into my laundry room. I didn’t know what to do, so I slammed my back door closed. The glass shattered. I ran upstairs to my room still very angry. I just had to be alone. Later I went down to clean up the glass. I told my mom later that day. She wasn’t mad; she just wished I had told her right away.

About two years ago I was wrestling with my younger cousins. They are both boys and were 9 and 7. They always liked wrestling with my brothers and me. We were having a lot of fun. I had the eight year old, Stephfon, pinned on the ground in a headlock. He called his brother for help. The older one, Jayfon, came over and hit me with his elbow in my lower back. I apparently have a weak spot in my lower back and it hurt, a lot. I stood up quickly. I didn’t really comprehend what I was doing. I picked him up and dropped him on his side to the ground. The ground was carpeted but it was still hard stone underneath. He screamed. He cried and ran to my grandmother. She asked what happened. I told her I got hurt and lost control. I couldn’t stop myself.

I have been able to stop myself when I’m angry more often lately. While at this summer camp I’ve been volunteering over the summer, we would take the kids to parks. One day we took the 6 through 9 year olds to the same place. They decided that they wanted me to chase some of them. Little by little more and more joined. It got to the point where there was 20-40 of them versus my twin Nick and me. They realized this shortly after I did, so the tables turned. They began chasing us, when they caught me they held my arms. One little girl hit me in my lower back as hard as she could. This made me angry, but instead of getting really mad I just told her to stop hitting me.

It took multiple times of being told “think before you act” before it finally stuck. I still don’t have full control when I’m angry. Most of the time my brother, Josh, holds me back until I shake loose and walk away. I am more understanding when the person I’m angry at is much younger than me. I now understand that even lessons that we learn as young children, aren’t always easy to follow.