I never had any of the "girls don't act violent" thing, and certainly never of the "children never display anger" deal. I basically slid out the chute telling the doctor to fuck off, and I've been pretty rasty ever since.

I did punch something once, back in the days of NicholasRevOne; the wall. It was before the plastic in my fingers, post-car crash surgery, had completely set, and I went straight through the kitchen wall. We got a lift to marin General Hospital and they wrapped up the fingers, but the index and middle fingers of my right hand - the "Goddamnit I am TIRED OF THIS AND CAN'T DEAL" punch the wall hand - healed crooked and required a second skin graft later.

I never punched anything after that. And these days, I have language and can cut people to shreds with it. Much safer all around.

I've thoroughly examined it while trying to be detached and academic about it because it scares me how close I could be to that kind of instinctive violence.

This is part of the reason I left the kids with the ex-husband. The anger directed at him was emerging more frequently around the kids and directed at them, the poor little sods. I got out while I could. If I'd had someone around who I felt comfortable talking to about this, I might have learned how to deal with it appropriately. Instead, it was a point in time when seeing a therapist was still kind of frowned upon. If there were any parenting classes available, I didn't have a clue where to look and I was too damned afraid to say anything to anyone because they so easily took kids away and I hadn't done anything yet, it was what I was afraid I'd do. I didn't learn how to ask for help until I was in my 30's. I wish I'd wised up a little sooner.

Oh, and here's something you might find interesting, Deb. Silent Auction.

Firearms.

They scare the daylights out of me.

I've never thrown anything at someone.

Once, I did. And I really don't. ever. She pushed me really hard, past enduring. I flipped out.

erika, I am all about flipping out as a method of showing stupid people that there are lines they're supposed to stay well the fuck behind.

Susan, I'd seen the auction; I'd love the signed LP standard, signed by Les Paul, but none of the others are really talking to me.

Someone wants to put up their Zemaitis, now....or their PRS private stock...

I have hit people, and the most frightening thing about it is that I wasn't angry at all at the times. It's generally someone who has made a habit of being annoying to me, and for whatever reason, something they do, generally not at all out of the ordinary, ticks me off over the edge. Some switch in my head moves over to "This creature is no longer of any worth to the universe, and its absence is desireable", and my hand is moving. It's very calm and cold, and my reaction completely depends on what I have to hand at the moment. I once blinked and found my husband using his not-inconsiderable strength to stop me from using a shopping cart to slam a grade-schooler into a wall at the supermarket. He had been behind me some distance the last I'd noticed. "How did you know?" I asked him once the socialization circuits came back and I reacquired language. "I heard you lock on that kid," he said. "Did I say something?" "No. But I heard you lock on." I disturb myself sometimes.

I've never thrown anything at another person, and I've only once made to physically attack someone. I was 12 or 13, it was in school, and friends restrained me. I've never felt that urge before or since, and I can't remember what it was that made that time different.

My lack of aversion to firearms is well-established, though I don't (yet) own one. When we were going through some of my dad's stuff after the funeral, the line dividing the firearms-averse from those clustered around the guns wasn't male vs. female, but born an S. vs. married one. However, I was the only S.-born female in the room, and it's just possible that I'm not typical.

My mom's a good shot. When my stepfather took a gun to the medical plaza one of my first thoughts was thank god it wasn't her. Because she would've killed somebody.

you can duck a bullet, but cold steel has to go somewhere

What does that mean?

As an adult, I've never been around anyone I was hotly angry at. Coldly angry, yes, and that accounts for me picking him up by his lapels and shaking him until he agreed with my point (I didn't remember this happening until it was pointed out to me later).

I don't even krav angry.

My hatred for guns and everything they symbolise to me about this country is well-documented elsewhere. It also aint open to debate, since the only point of debate is to hope to reach an accord, and I'm well beyond gun control and into "you want a gun, no problem, but you have to shoot yourself in both kneecaps first and I get to watch" land. That particular headspace has been there all my life, and probably isn't going anywhere. (edit: which isn't a diss - it just means that there's no meeting ground on the pro-gun issue for me, so why should we argue about it?)

So I don't debate it, because it isn't fair to either party in the debate. I just move on to the next topic. Unless someone points one at me. That happens, there's surgery to remove their .9 mil from their lower intestine in their immediate future.