When I’m seeing red, you best not be baiting me with your flag. There is no rhyme or reason to my irritability, but when I am irritable, no one is safe. The best anyone can do is to stay out of my way and to wait until the storm passes. I’m breathing fire and you will burn.
Colors become brighter and noises grate harder. Every word spoken around me takes on a tone that begs for silencing. I do not know why I lash out, but in a state of such hypersensitivity, it seems like the logical conclusion. Any hope of wearing my mask with a perfect fit fades as others begin to wonder what they did to piss me off. The reality is that they did little. I’m just ready to blow.
Some psychopaths, it seems, are in a perpetual irritable state. Others, like me, are just usually in an irritable state. Combined with my underhanded tactics, my lack of a filter, and my narcissism, my irritability is dangerous for everyone involved. It’s not personal, I simply want silence. Burning all in front of me seems as good as a plan as simply walking away, though I know that the body count is much lower should I make a one-eighty.
That said, I do realize that lashing out like a small child that does not know what is wrong is not the best way to act. If, and this is a *huge* if, I realize that I am in a dangerously irritable state, I try my best to seclude myself in order to keep the damage to a minimum. I try to enforce my own “time out”. Ultimately though, I’m a flamethrower with a hair trigger, and the best one can hope for is to keep it away from the dry brush when I am with fuel.