Anger is a trait I would never take from my father, so I told myself.

Yet I find myself utterly enraged at something so little and pathetic.

I once knew myself so well.

I was happy and free to love.

Anger was not in my vocabulary.

But something changed dramatically in me, like a light switch.

Now when I look in the mirror, I do not know what I see.

I am something new, but not the nice freshly painted, red leather seats new.

I am an ugly new.

I cannot look in the mirror for longer than a minute before I quickly shy away.

I do not like who I am and I want to go back.

But I do not know how I got here.

I cannot just take the “retrace your steps” path, because I am lost.

Am I to blame?

Is it the people I am surrounded by?

Can I even blame other people for my own problems?

Maybe it is just because the apple does not fall far from the tree.