This short story is a mix of some real events and emotions for me pushed to the point of my nightmares. I thought I’d give it a little something by writing it in 2nd person.
Content heads-up: anger, violence, non-consensual touching (a little, short duration)
And for anyone that doesn’t know, aikido is a martial art.
***
Aikido class is starting. You line up with the others according to rank and bow in. Then you begin warm-ups. You look out the room’s door. Class is in a small dance studio room in a university. There’s enough space to train despite the annoying gym machines and other equipment that the school leaves lying against the wall to the right. To the left is the entrance, where the hallway of the basement floor is seen past the set of open doors. Sometimes students crowd those halls and talk at the beginning of class so sensei prefers to close the the doors. You’ve noticed that T reopens them when he does. So when sensei closes them and turns around, you sneak behind him and open them again before class starts. The hallway is empty at the moment. You wonder if your friend T will show. It’s always a good day when they show. They’re usually on time but it isn’t exactly unusual for them to be late either. While stretching, you glance at the door every 20 or so seconds. Sensei notices but doesn’t comment. He doesn’t care where your attention is as long as you follow along.
T walks in during the final stretches.
Finally! Yes!
Out of your control, you smile. On the outside, it’s a small smile but to you, it’s big. Feeling emotions and expressing them has always been a challenge, even when you’re not intentionally suppressing them. With T though, it can’t be helped. Joy spreads through you. You look around class to see how likely you are to work with T today. You’re 6 students. Smaller than usual for a fall semester but that’s fine. It’s great actually. That puts you in the bottom 3 in rank and T in the top. Sensei loves doing senior-junior training which means you’ll definitely work with T a few times today. You smile again as your excitement spreads.
After solo basic motions, which disappoints you because you wanted to do it with a partner… one very specific partner, sensei calls for technique training. That means partner time. You’re eager as sensei demonstrates the technique and talks about old and new information relating to the lock involved. It’s nikajo today. More importantly, T is sitting next to you. Mid-lesson, sensei looks right at you to let you know that what he just explained is something you really need to work on. You nod only half-aware of what was said. T’s beside you with a smile amused by sensei staring at you. They seem to know that you weren’t exactly paying attention.
The first round of technique training begins. You line up in the junior row. Sadly, you start at the opposite end of T. The desired training and talking will have to wait. Instead, you’re in front of… damn, the jackass of the class. Sometimes you wonder if the only reason his head is on his neck is because it was shoved so far up his ass that it found its way out the esophagus. You take a breath and try to focus on something positive. Like how you’ll be working with T next round. You focus on that as you train this round.
Time to switch partners.
Yes!
You move to set yourself up in front of T. You start feeling nervous. That only increases as you start to feel ridiculous for being nervous. You’ve known them for 6 years and still, they make you feel like you’ve only just met. You partially hate the nervousness and moreso, how you can’t control the stupid things you say and do in front of T even after all these years. But if that’s the price of having T in your life, even as the casual friends you are, you’ll take it. The smallest joy you feel from them is worth it.
In your excitement to work with T, you forgot that you’re doing nikajo tonight. Your weakest lock. No way T will be impressed. Which means you can’t convince them that you’re not a loser. As if they wouldn’t have noticed by now if that’s what they really thought of you. Still, you think of something funny to say while beginning the round in hopes to distract them from your crappy technique later. T goes first. You grab their wrist and wham! You’re fully locked. You didn’t expect this. Usually T’s nikajo gets you 50 to 60% recently. You forget your plan to say something funny. Mostly because you remember you’re doing a nikajo II technique. That means T’s about to pivot-shift on you. You’re excited and worried about it. T’s been slamming you hard with those motions for a couple years now. It’s their biggest strength. And this time, you’re fully locked which mean T’s in complete control. Not that you mind really. Until T starts to pivot. You barely consciously react but somehow manage to move as you’re supposed to. The second half of the drop though, during the shift, you do nothing consciously. Thank god it’s been 6 years of aikido training. As your body slams to the ground, your hand reaches out to help you land and your head turns so you don’t smash your face against the mats. You don’t even realize you’ve fully hit the mats until T pins you. Thank god for those 6 years of training or your face would be bleeding now. You slap the mats hard to end the technique. As you stand back up, you notice that T’s smiling proud of having gotten you good. You can’t help but smile too.
Today’s a good day.
“Hajime!”
Round’s over. Sensei calls for a partner switch and you move down the junior line. You look back towards T to see who they’re working with next. It’s Mr. head up his ass. You wonder how he got in the junior line. He’s literally the highest rank below sensei. Officially. He trained in Japan for a year and… let’s just say he’s not truly the highest ranking student. But that’s not why you’re annoyed. Not only do you dislike him but T dislikes him too. You wish it were you stuck with the jerk again and not T. He’s always making mean comments based on bad stereotypes. T gets more of them because of their body type. Just the memory of some past comments makes you angry.
This isn’t the time. Ignore him. T will be fine.
You try to let it go and focus on your new partner for the next round. A few minutes later mid-technique, you glance over at T. T’s about to shift when you notice the other person’s hand. The jackass has his hand on T’s waist. No reason for it to be there. It doesn’t even seem like accident.
You’re not sure how to react. You stop moving trying to understand what’s happening. You see T swat his hand away and he’s not surprised. Not one bit. Whether it’s because he knew T wouldn’t be happy about it or because it’s not the first time, you’re not sure. Not that it truly matters. It’s clear that it was intentional and that he was aware of T’s “No.”
At this point, you’re not moving because you can’t let yourself. It’s not safe. Not with what’s consuming you. Not with what you’ve been keeping buried every day slowly rising up and out. Every day, you’ve been forcing it down. It’s not the first time it’s managed to start spreading but you still need to put it back down. You can’t let it win.
Don’t move. Don’t speak. I am in control. I am in control.
Someone speaks to you. You’re not sure who. Maybe your partner who’s waiting for you to finish the technique. It doesn’t matter. The technique. Them. Nothing matters except keeping control. A small part of you doesn’t want to. The jackass deserves whatever you fear you’ll do but you don’t want to be that person. You never did. It’s why you never let yourself go, let people in. You don’t even let yourself feel your feelings. Bad or good. It’s not safe. It’s never been safe. You need to keep control and that’s all that matters.
You see the jackass stand up when the technique is done and he smiles at T. You don’t know what’s happening anymore. Something new. You’ve always been able to put it back in the depths where it belonged. You’ve always won. Not today.
You’re still not sure what’s happening. One thing is clear. You’re no longer in control. You failed at the biggest rule you gave yourself. You know it. You feel it but can’t yet understand what it means. You’re still trying to get back the lost control. Still hoping that this isn’t actually happening.
Your fist tingles. In a painful way. At least it feels like you should feel pain. All you feel is that weird tingle in your hand. Everything else feels… you’re not really sure. It’s like you’re in your body and not at the same time. Like your body is acting on your worst fears by itself.
You feel your arm move. There’s a face in front of you. The jackass. You reach out with the other hand to grab his dogi by the front collar and suddenly you realize what’s happening. A fist flies past your vision. It’s your own. You’re not sure if you’re more surprised that you’re hitting him or that there’s blood on the face in front of you. Honestly, you were always a little curious how much you could hurt someone with a punch. The split second distraction vanishes. You’re back to struggling to believe that any of this is happening.
The takeover of everything you’ve kept buried has never been out this long. Has never been strong enough to win. How can any of this be real? A true nightmare come to life. Part of you knows the truth. You’re punching someone and you can’t stop. You want to. Mostly. There’s something almost pleasant in what’s happening but you hate not being in control. Especially not after all your effort all these years. You want the control back. You want to go back. Back to before this moment, this lack of control, this physical violence by your body, by you. It wasn’t supposed to be real. You were never going to let it become real.
I failed. It’s won. This is who I really am.
Someone yanks you from behind to pull you off the jackass.
Thank god!
A part of you thinks it’s over but your control’s not back. The only change is you can’t punch the jackass anymore. He’s too far. There’s someone new in front of you now. Your sensei. The raging numbness is still strong. You don’t even know why you’re mad anymore. All you know is you can’t stop. You need to hit again. It’ll solve everything. You punch your sensei. You try to. Just slightly, he moves to the side to evade your punch. You feel a hand on your wrist and something new taking over your body. It hurts your arm and you need to take it back. Your arm, your body, the control. It’s in someone else’s power. You jump forward. You’re not sure why. Next thing you know, you’re on your back and sensei is pinning you. You can barely move. You wiggle your leg a little. That’s about all you can do. Your body is stuck to the mats.
Thank god!
You can’t hurt anyone else right now. You breathe and try to put the anger back where it belongs. It’s fighting you. Telling you to be enraged about being pinned. You’re confused by the mix of emotions. You want to punch and kick but fortunately, you can’t move enough. You have no choice but to stay still. You focus on taking back the control. Putting the escaped horrific part of you back deep inside where it hopefully never comes out again.
You know the hope is stupid. You’ve always known. It’s a fool’s game. But you have no other choice. You need to believe it. You’ve given up on any other type of life. How can there be a choice when society literally tells you this is who you are and there’s no hiding? Every day you’re told it’s normal and okay to be this angry. To need to control yourself and avoid things that risk losing that control. You know better. You know it’s not okay. The only question you’re left with is “which is the real you?” “Do you get to choose?” After all, just as you’ve been told, you’re not worthy of a better life. That has to be earned. Being happy and free of rage isn’t free. It’s something to be earned in this society. By being a good person.
By being someone I’m not. Not after today. Not even before today.
As you lie on the mats, you try to forget that your worst nightmare became a reality. That you became everything you hate and fear. You fought so hard to prove to society, to everyone around you, to yourself that what lay beneath wasn’t the real you. You feel a lose. Today can never be undone. You can never let yourself forget it.
Today is not a good day.
***
For anyone that relates to the anger parts here, I know the story shows the worst side of it and maybe makes it seem hopeless but I want you to know there is hope. It took me nearly 30 years to find something that greatly calmed me. I never thought it was even possible before. Being angry was so ingrained in me. I couldn’t even imagine a life where I didn’t have to deal with it. But that version of me exists. Which means that version of you exists. It is possible. It isn’t easy finding methods that do it for you nor does it happen fast. It’ll likely take years and there may be weird intense emotional moments involving all the other emotions you may or may not feel right now due to the immense anger. That was my experience anyway. But it was well worth it. It’s a freedom that makes life worth living. It’s beautiful. So if you’re struggling with anger, I hope your find your way there too. It’s better than you can imagine.
[ link coming soon for the backstory to this short story ]
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