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.