I'm doing 8 things
When you grow up being hit, you learn two things: You learn how to take a punch, and you learn you want to hit other people. To hit or be hit; that is the question.
When you’re a child and you get hit, you’re a victim. When you do the only other thing you’ve been taught, you become a monster. Somehow, along the way, I made the transition… but I don’t remember exactly when.
My dad didn’t like to talk. His fists did all his talking for him. Through all the punches, something came out of his fists and planted a demon inside of me. The demon wants to hit back. And hit other people. And cause enough pain in the world to make it feel exactly the same way that I feel. My dad isn’t around anymore. He took his fists with him to hell. But the demon is still there.
I never learned how to use words, and besides, fists were much more direct. And now, even though I’m learning, when I get angry, the demon wants the fists to do my talking. And I’m afraid.
I’m afraid of what I might do – when I’m angry, or scared, or confronted. Will I turn into my dad? Will the demon come out? Will I then be able to send the demon back to his maker? Or is it now a part of me forever – in the genetic code I also got from Dad?
I fear it. I fear for myself. I fear myself. Damn it.
