Therapy can seem like a scary thing. All that shit you are hiding from needs to be accounted for.
I have had anxiety attacks right in therapy. Remember, that is where you dig up the shit, and the shit is clever. It knows that the therapist can handle it and you can't, so it will come looking for you when you don't have the protection of the therapist. That is when we get angry, the next day or that night.
Angry that we should even have to be worried about shit that the "normal" people don't even have. Angry that we get angry in the first place; angry that sometimes it takes numbing to handle the pain, only to find out the numbing only helped for the very second it numbed, because coming down, or after we cum, or whatever we do is made worse by the shit.
And the shit is standing there laughing at us with the better-than you face of our perp.
Angry that the normal people can't give us a break. Angry that no one understands, not even us, and angry that the only answer we will ever get is when we decide to be satisfied with the half-baked notion that there is no understanding.
Because, like the weather, you cannot predict this shit, and it won't ever completely go away.
We haver to live with this shit, given to us by some asshole years ago.
Sorry, I just had to let go for a minute...bad day.
And let the darkness fear our light.