Anthracite adds bio-brat to her “admires” list.
Uhh…it’s actually very encouraging. Depressing would be him taking you off to a dark place, raping and sodomizing you, then killing you.
Keep being strong.
Falcon
I
c
e
(Falcon on thin ice)
Chief: 
(I am going to be in SUCH trouble…wanna spank me, Chief?)
See it happens every day.
ChiefScott…yer a hoot
I snapped once at work. I had been planning a combination going away/birthday party for one of my co-workers. I was in the process of getting the cards signed by everyone, when one of the management guys came in and asked me where to put his contributions. I was in a cubicle one aisle over and two cubes down from him. I told him just to place his contribution in the cubicle that he was in (not his). He didn’t like that. He wanted me to personally take his contribution from his hand. I told him just to put it down. (I was being nice.) He had brought in a bag of big rice cakes and he threw them at me. I remember picking up the rice cakes, walking to his office (mowing over 3 people in the process so they say), throwing the rice cakes so that they slide under his desk, swinging him around in his chair and telling him in no uncertain terms that if he treated me or any other women in the office like that again I would personally rip off his balls so that he could wear them as a bowtie. I then proceeded to walk back to my office (mowing down the same 3 people who had been easedropping at the other office) and tried to calm down. My poor boss came in to ask me a question and I told him through gritted teeth that NOW was not a good time. I ended up going for a long walk. When I came back, I was called into my bosses office. He had heard some of what had happened from one of his friend/co-workers and wanted to hear it from my own lips.
I haven’t lost it like that since then. I would probably react in a similar way if someone hurt my daughter. She’s 19, but still…
Oh yeah, just a few other details. I’m 5’6" and at the time weighed in at 170 lbs/ My antagonist was 6’3" and weighed in a 275 lbs. Also, I was told later that day by him, that I had totally misunderstood the circumstances and he had just tossed the rice cakes at me. He forgave me the next day. Snort, right, like I don’t know the difference between someone throwing something at me in anger and being tossed something.
Threats to people I care about can do it–oh most definitely. Friends, girlfriends, family…threaten them and be prepared for the gates of hell to swing wide.
I’ve only really snapped once. I was out walking at night with my GF of the time–it wasn’t a bad neighborhood, but it was dark and deserted–and a guy stepped out of an alley and pulled a knife on us. If he had just demanded money, I would’ve stayed calm, but he made a grab for her–and everything went blurry. Next thing I really remember is the punk sprawled back in the alley (about 10 feet from me), unconscious, with a broken wrist. I had a little cut on my forearm, but it wasn’t even bleeding, and I couldn’t feel it at all. My GF told me that I jumped the guy, did something that made him scream, and threw him into a wall hard enough to knock him out. The police just told us to go home; they already had a warrant out for the guy, so they arrested him and ignored us.
I really, really hate truck drivers looking down in my car on the freeway. One day, this fat, ugly, pigfucking (giggle, giggle) asshole is pacing me and all the while he’s making lured, disgusting gestures. I can’t get away from the pig because of traffic. I snapped I think, because I threw a half full can of soda out the window and it hit the side of his truck. Bammo! I was really scared cause cars behind this coulda wrecked or something. I was shaking so hard and so dazed, I didn’t realize the guy had pulled in front of me and was gradually coming to a stop. Here we were stopped on the freeway and he gets out and is yelling at me and I’m yelling at him. I was trapped but I wanted to get out and at least get in a smack before he totalled me. I didn’t tho. We finally just went on. I realized the next day I had a can of mace in the seat next to me. Hell yah, I would have used it. I didn’t loose it because I was thinking of my daughter and husband and how much they mean to me. Road rage may just make me snap one day, so watch it!
OK, SmoothOperator is also on the “admires” list.
ChiefScott set himself up for all that, but I think I’ve done enough with smilies lately. I’ll just lie low.
Anyways, what really chafes my willy and what drives me right to the brink is when my dad tries to bring religion into everything. If he keeps it up, I may just have to borrow Chief’s gun for a day or so.
He woould get it back, of course. He needs something to fend off the smilies.
** Magdalene ** & ** MadPoet **, your stories were close enough to my own experiences to make me shiver. Wanna start a shitty childhood survivors group? I have a feeling there’s a few more of us lurking around too.
I’ve snapped a few times myself, but oddly enough I don’t remember it. It was that bad! I went through a period in junior high school (grade 8-10) that just sucked the life right out of me. I had not one single friend in the world, dressed all in black every single day, was addicted to painkillers, and regularly heard voices in my head telling me to kill myself. Real barrel of laughs. Apparently I snapped more than once in class, but I have very little memory of it.
One episode is clear: in Grade Nine, the kind and caring members of my class decided to give me the nickname Slim in honor of my slightly large figure. (As an aside, looking back on pictures of myself of that time and comparing them to what my self-image was, it’s shocking how much damage this teasing did.) Wherever I went, I was called Slim. No matter what I did, I was called Slim. It was very cruel and hurtful, and really ripped at my weak spots. One day when I thought I just couldn’t stand to go through one more day of hell - er, I mean school - I asked my (ignorant) father,
“What do you think are the chances of a girl my age having a nervous breakdown?”
“Slim.”
I honestly don’t remember what happened next, but I think you can probably guess.
If you want a real scare, read Lexicon’s story and then look here.
I don’t get pissed off easily, but when something really pisses me off, I tend to say more than I do these days. In middle school for a couple years I was a loner and I went postal a couple of times and seriously injured people who pissed me off. :mad: [not going into it] Now if someone pisses me off, I’ll tend to have dreams of killing them or the vampire thing except it frightens the shit out of them instead of being erotic. The last kid that pissed me off was left [accidentally] :eek: with deep nail marks in his neck from me holding onto it while i lectured him on whatever he was doing to piss me off. At least I don’t get angry much. It’s a waste of my time. 