So I had to do homework this week for my ptherapist–I am doing EMDR treatment for PTSD, and I see images. This is what I saw in one image–myself trying, in vain, to close the shell (armor) I put around the rage that I hold within me. It sneaks out, as hot as burning lava, erupting as sarcasm, jealousy, venom, indignation and I cause others pain. Usually I only need my mouth–my command of the language, my inate ability to know what would cause the most pain seem sometimes otherworldly… and yet I continue to force the rage back into a container ill fit to hold it. I have learned well my containment over the course of the last 36 years…and yet. And yet the walls of the prison, the fortress i have built continue to wane and grow thin and brittle. And I am afraid.