Creature, creature that I see, you live too deep inside of me.

So recently I had another Borderline rage attack. It used to be that it would happen monthly, and now it's generally a yearly event. The fact that I've got this much more control then I used to, it's comforting.

Of course, the rage always throws me off for a while. It's weird. It's like having this feral creature that resides so deep in me that most of the time the only that gets out is a little snappy behavior, the occasional bitchy moment. Things like that. But when I lose control, when that rage takes over its almost like being possessed.

It cannot be stopped, it cannot be controlled, it cannot be changed, or derailed. It will overtake me and it will turn me into a totally different person. And it's so exhausting.

I screamed, kicked, clawed, twisted and turned and wailed. I bit and spat and hissed. I threatened and cursed, and growled. I fought like an animal caged. I was vicious and cruel.

And there is a small part of me that is so very relieved when it happened. Because my temper keeps me more cautious then I probably should be. It's a treacherous line to toe. Because if I allow the beast to reach out when it chooses, in small doses, I'm not sure that it won't gain too much strength for me to handle.

So instead I keep it bound, and when it lashes out, it is not the way it used to be. I remember now, bits and pieces of my rage, where before I remembered nothing. I can articulate what I need now, when before I could only scream.

Each day is a small, quiet battle that no one even sees. It's a vicious, brutal battle. It's waged deep in my mind, heart, and soul. So under the surface of my skin, there is a battle of epic proportions. And no one gets to see it, except me.

So here I am, battling a force of nature deep within my core. Something that is probably a thousand times stronger then I am. The fact that I'm still hanging on surprises the hell out of me.

I survive on the tiny victories. The little things. Not screaming when I want to, not throwing a punch every time I get mad, not demanding blood for my tears. It's the little tiny things that matter to me. The tiny little victories.

I wish I could convey to you how much it takes, how much I need those moments, and how terribly hurt I get when people take those away from me.