The Many Me's

There have been times when I have been so filled with sorrow and despair that all I can do is lay curled into myself, unable to cry out, only to moan a name... "God.........." There is nothing else, not even tears can come to me when I am in that place. There have been times when I have been so filled with anger it pours out into destruction, glass smashing and breaking and crunching under my feet, sharp blade dragging against my flesh, pain searing, blood flowing, scars forming on the outside at least, instead of the inside of me where they are so thick and I fear that they will never leave. I have punched and kicked holes into various walls, thrown pots, pans and jars across the room, screamed obscenities until I had no more breath to scream. There have been times so dark that I cannot see anything clearly, and only wish for sweet death to come and find me, rescue me from the darkness, because the darkness of death has got to be brighter than what is here with me now.
I hate those parts of me. I dread facing them. I fear the sorrow, the despair, the anger, and the darkness. Once in awhile, I think that I have left it all behind, but out of nowhere they come at me, devouring me, changing me into a person that nobody would choose to be associated with.
There have been times too, of peace beyond my own understanding. A happiness so deep it is unimaginable. Contentment that fills every part of me, and flows onto my children and husband. These are the times that I long to hold onto forever, to become that person forever. During those times, there is a haunting below that peace and happiness that tells me, "This won't last." And I wait for the crash of sadness and despair and anger to come again.