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Anger: A Personal Narrative

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When people feel angry, they can choose to either defuse the situation, or let it take over their entire bodies. The latter can often lead to a more intense situation than necessary. Much of my adolescent years were spent getting Into trouble. I was constantly ditching school, getting bad grades, and being sent to the principals office, among other things. When my mother decided to try a new method of keeping me on track, I completely lost my cool. It was a typical day at Sabina High School.

I had Just arrived and was headed to class when my friend, Maggie, approached me with the idea of skipping our first class of he day.

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Typically, I would have taken her up on this offer, but for some unknown reason I turned her down. We parted ways and I headed up the stairs to my classroom. Everything seemed normal in the classroom; I took my seat near the back of the class, took out my notebook and began working on my exercises.

It was at that moment that everything took a turn for the worse. While I was working, I heard my mother’s voice projecting from the doorway, asking to sit In during class. Not believing my ears, I looked up. Sure enough, my mother was standing right there.

Furious and embarrassed, I flipped the page of my notebook to a new page and began to doodle. My mother took a seat right behind me where she spent the remainder of the class time telling me to pay attention and poking me with a pencil. Out of spite, I continued to disobey everything that she told me to do. When the bell finally rang, I bolted out of the classroom and charged through the hallways with tears filling my eyes. My mother stayed close behind me trying to pull me back by my hands, but was unsuccessful. I was so angry that I could feel my body flooding with heat.

It was only a matter of time before I would explode. By the time I reached the counselors’ office, my face was bright red and profanities were spewing from my mouth. I was screaming about how much I hated my mom and that she should watch her back. Everybody in the office was looking at me as if I was psychotic. As an attempt to get me to calm down, one of the counselors separated my mother and me and took turns talking to us. I was so enraged that I was even yelling at the counselor. She told me that she had suggested to my mother to come to my school and follow me around for the day because it had worked on her on.

When the counselor left the room to talk to my mother, I walked out of her office and continued telling everybody how much I hated my mother and I gave her evil eyes through the window of the room. The counselor suggested to my mother that she take me to a hospital to have my mental stability evaluated, to which my mother agreed. When the counselor emerged from the room, she asked me to return to the other room, where she notified me of what was going to happen. She then walked my mother and me out to the car and sent us on our way.

The entire drive to the capital, neither my mother or I spoke a word to each other. Most of the day, we waited to be seen in separate areas of the waiting room. I stepped outside several times to smoke a cigarette in order to calm down. After waiting several hours, the nurse called me in. Over the course of about an hour, the doctor questioned me on things relating to my mental health. He concluded that I was, in fact, mentally stable. By the time I emerged from his office, my father had arrived and was talking with my mother. I could tell that he was very upset with me, which came as a surprise.

Usually, my father would agree with my mother to punish me, but he always found ways to relate to me and make me feel better. He looked at me and began to lecture me. When he was finished, he drove me home in his truck, only muttering a few words. Over the next few days, communication between my mother and me was minimal. Things gradually returned to normal. I continued to push the boundaries my parents imposed on me, and my parents continued to ground me. Little by little, I became more responsible and obedient. I proved that I could do the right thing. I showed that I was capable of being successful.

Although this was a situation where my anger dominated the rest of me, in the end everything turned out okay. By letting my anger escalate to an unnecessary level, I learned a lot about who I am and how I should react in similar situations. Had I not expressed my fury in the way that I did, I may not be the person I am today. I know that I may get mad at someone and someone may get mad at me, but that is what people do. It is part of being human. We move on with our lives and eventually get over it. Though we accept anger as a perfectly natural feeling to have, we need to learn how to handle it in a constructive way.

Cite this Anger: A Personal Narrative

Anger: A Personal Narrative. (2018, Feb 03). Retrieved from https://graduateway.com/anger-a-personal-narrative/

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