Anger: A Personal Narrative
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 principal's 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 Sabino 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 the day. 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
It was a typical day at Sabino 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 the day. 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