How It Feels When Bipolar Anger Creates an Internal Monster
Describing the rage monster from the inside.
It’s a monster that sleeps inside of me. As I approach my fifties, it rests more often, but when startled, it rises with as much ferocity as ever.
Bipolar anger is a separate entity from me, at least in my mind. It’s irrational, impulsive, and destructive. It’s a part of bipolar disorder that still fills me with fear even after decades of treatment.
I hate the days when my monster rules as king. On those days, he wakes up before I do and sets the tone for the day. Nothing will go right when he’s awake. Everything from the annoying announcer on the radio to the perpetual drip of the bathroom faucet intensifies his rampage.
For the safety of others, I avoid people as much as possible. It’s not that he’s ever hurt anyone physically, except maybe once in the third grade, but he uses hateful words and knows which ones will hurt the most.
He tosses insults as daggers, wounding everyone within throwing distance. His barbs rip open tender hearts as he stomps on their most painful scars.
