I've been looking back over my journal entries and the vast majority of them end up morphing into rage filled rants with plenty of colourful language. I can see why I am angry about being bullied at school and at the time I felt serious impotent anger at those who tormented me. Most of the bullying was verble particularly in secondary school and I really wanted to lash out at the bullys, I may not have won, but I wanted to hurt them hurt them badly. But I was too scared of getting into trouble at school, because I was afraid of how my dad would react. I grew up in fear of my dad and his agressive temper. I remember feeling angry and resentful against my dad whilst growing up and I think alot of my problems start with him. From a young age I wasn't allowed to show sadness wasn't allowed to cry unless I was physically hurt, unless he deemed me in enough physical pain to cry. If I cried over something emotional then he would tell me "what are you crying for? are you hurt? no. Stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about". I carried this fear of him and inability to express emotional pain throughout my childhood and teenage years. I remember when me and a girlfriend broke up when I was 17 and she acused me of being heartless and cold, because I could not express or even properly feel the emotional pain I was supposed to be feeling. It is still that way, when writing about sad things that happend to me in the past I can't seem to feel sad, its only when I'm caught off guard and say lisening to a sad song or watching a sad film that I ever seem to feel sadness. Anger is much easier I feel that all the time over little things. And when I journal sometimes I do feel the anger I felt in the past whilst been tormented by bullies or grounded by my parents. I usually feel a stiring of anger which will quickly dissapate if I concentrate on it, its like something hiding in my periferal vision that dissapears when I focus on it properly, the only way I can even start to reach it properly is to journal, let it stir, put on some angry music and work on my punch bag in my room.