Mitch has had anger issues for a long time. They never really started to show until he was a teenager, though, probably when his anxiety started to worsen. His dad has always had problems with anger, so he figures that that's where he gets it from. He also knows that anger and irritability can be a coping mechanism for anxiousness at times.
Mitch has punched walls, thrown his phone, he's pulled at his hair, dug his nails into his skin, completely wrecked his own room by throwing everything everywhere, and more.
He gets very agitated with what other people think would be small things. He can't name all of them from the top of his head, except for one, which is the sound of people chewing. That is a trigger that usually sets off everything else.
Scott and Mitch have been together for over four years. They officially started dating on Scott's 17th birthday. They met in middle school, when Scott switched to Mitch's school. They were in the same lunch, and Scott noticed Mitch always sitting alone, so he started sitting with him. They quickly became best friends, and Scott quickly picked up on Mitch's anger problems.
Scott had always told Mitch to text him during school if he needed to, and he would meet him in one of the bathrooms.
Scott had seen Mitch get angry, but he had never seen Mitch fly off the handle. That is, until two years after they became friends. Mitch was in ninth grade while Scott was in tenth.
Here is what happened:
Mitch: I'm gonna scream
Scott: Don't. What's wrong? Where r u?
Mitch: Academic literacy. I'm trying to work and she won't fucking stop talking. To make it even worse, the girl next to me is chewing on her damn nails really loudly. I'm gonna snap
Scott: What do u need?
Mitch: Can u meet me in the F-Wing bathroom?
Scott: Yeah
Mitch goes into the bathroom and hides in the stall until he hears Scott.
"Mitch? Are you in here?" Mitch comes out, and Scott notices the tears in his eyes.
"My h-hand got really itchy, and I started scratching it. It made me even more angry..." Mitch shows his left hand to Scott. It's very bruised and even bleeding a little.
"Oh, honey, what did you do?"
"I punched the wall... there's no damage to the wall."
"Okay, come on." They go into the handicapped stall and Mitch stands against the wall while Scott gently cleans his hand off.
"I'm usually good at not doing that."
"I know. It's okay. Last period is in a few minutes, then you can go home and relax."
"Can you sleep over?"
"Probably. It's Friday, my parents shouldn't care." Scott throws the paper towel away, "Are you able to move your hand okay?"
Mitch tries it, "Yeah, it's just the bruises that hurt. My wrist hurts a little, but I think it's alright."
"I think you should wrap it."
"And draw even more attention to it? I can't even write right now."
"Mitch, please."
"No, Scott! I don't need a wrap."
"Mitchell, wrap your goddamn hand."
Mitch clenches and unclenches his jaw, "Fine. The wrap is in the second pocket in my bag." Scott carefully wraps Mitch's hand and wrist to, hopefully, decrease the swelling.
"How am I supposed to hide this?"
"Do you have a sweatshirt?"
"No."
Scott takes off his sweatshirt and gives it to Mitch, "Wear this. It's big on you, so it'll cover your hand. As for writing, type instead. Or try with your right hand."
Mitch puts it on, "Thank you."
Scott is now 21, Mitch is 20, and they live together.
Scott had gotten home from work about an hour ago, and Mitch is just getting home now.
Mitch walks in and slams the door behind him before throwing his keys across the room. He walks into the living room and sees Scott on the couch.
"How long have you been home?"
"Over an hour."
"Why didn't you tell me? My stupid Uber was a nightmare."
"Come here."
"No, I'm mad at you."
"No, you're mad at your driver." Mitch rolls his eyes and sits on the couch next to Scott.
"What happened?"
"I said I needed to be picked up from here by 2:30, because my session was at 3:00. They didn't show up until 2:50. I gave them the benefit of the doubt, but then he didn't show up until 5:00, when he was supposed to be there at 4:30."
"That's annoying."
"Tell me about it. Then I got in, and I, politely, asked him why he was late, and guess what this bitch did."
"He was an ass about it."
"He goes 'Why did you call me to pick you up again if all you were gonna do is bitch and moan?' And I apologized, which earned me a 'You should be sorry, dumbass.'"
"What?"
"I know! Then I got out and had to walk the rest of the way home, which was fucking mile and a half." Mitch goes to punch the wall behind the couch, but Scott is quick to grab his wrist before he does.
"No, you're going to hurt yourself. How was the session?"
Mitch as been going to therapy for six years now to help with his anxiety and anger. Believe it or not, it has helped him quite a bit.
"Fine. It was fine!" Mitch starts hitting his temples with his hands, and Scott gently stops him.
"What do you want me to do?"
"I don't know!" Tears form in Mitch's eyes, and Scott pulls him close so that Mitch's head is on his chest as he runs a hand through Mitch's hair.
"I think I should go to therapy every other week again." Mitch quietly states after a while.
"I think that would be a good idea. Once a month isn't working very well anymore." Mitch nods and looks up at Scott, who pecks his lips.
"I'll call her later. I'm comfy." He lays his head back on Scott's chest and puts a movie on the TV.
***
Wow it's been a while
