Dear anger,

You are heavy. You are not pretty. You are ugly. I am tired of you walking with me. I am tired of you. I am tired of feeling this way. I am tired of you following me everywhere. I am tired of seeing you in the mirror. I am tired of feeling you in my chest. I am tired of seeing you in my dreams. I am tired of you sleeping next to me and waking up with me. I am tired of you. You are really heavy.

“How did you feel after writing this?” the therapist asked next week. 

Lydia did not bother with greetings or polite...