The Red book
I don't tend to get angry at people when they can see me. I try not to express negative emotions so that my parents won't be worried about me. Sometimes there are days where I can't take it anymore, the weeks of torment finally get to me and I snap.
I don't hit someone. I don't shout or scream at them. I never react extremely in any way. I simply shut down all emotions and any interactions with anyone that isn't related to schoolwork. People try to talk to me apparently but I can't remember hearing them.
When I get home and no one is in the house I sit down in my room. I wil start doing schoolwork until something happens like my pencil will break or my dog will be extra annoying, now that is when it happens.
I totally flip out, shouting and screaming and swearing and violence. Tables flipped over, wallpaper torn off by my fingernails, mirrors smashed. Last time it happened I had to put new wallpaper up for an entire wall and pay $327 for repairs to my room.
Eventually I will take out my special art pad. I call it The Red book even though it isn't red, it's black. On every single page are the words or pictures that express my emotions, written in my warm blood from my nose which I punch my self vigorously to get. Sometimes I dig into the side of my septum with a fingernail to release the tide of blood. I always write or paint with my fingers and it feels good on my hands.