@Anonymous

When I was in university, I had a major temper issue. OK, maybe I still have a temper, but it's not as bad as when I was 18. When I was a freshman, I acquired the nickname "hangtime kid."

How did I get that name? We had this student lounge where people could play pool, study, use computers, relax, whatever a student's heart desired. In that lounge was a set of arcade games, with one of them being NBA Hangtime, which I played on a regular basis.

It wasn't so much my playing the game that gave me that nickname, but rather my reactions to the outcome. When I won, I would be standing on chairs, chest bumping the group of billiards kids, high fiveing everyone, etc.

However, the moniker was more attached to my reaction to when I lost. My behavior when I lost included throwing chairs, attempting to tilt the machine, screaming, cursing, punching the machine, etc. On two occasions, it was brought to my attention by students that I had gotten into a blackout rage and smashed a pool cue on the arcade game.

The lady who managed the lounge, let's call her Mary Beth, had given me several warnings regarding my behavior. She told me about all the reports she was getting about my behavior and that if it continued, she was going to ban me from the lounge altogether completely.

Luckily, soon after that warning, summer break started, so there was no possibility of me getting into any more trouble.

When my sophomore year started, so did me playing hangtime again. One time I was starting to get a little loud, but not destructive, and Mary Beth walked up to me and ejected me from the lounge. The next day, she spoke to me, and gave me a final warning on the matter. To say the least, that's when all the bullshit stopped.

Fast forward 15 years later. I was talking to a friend from uni, when a mutual friend brought up the "hangtime kid" moniker. That got me disproportionately pissed off.

Apparently he still had hard feelings because one of my rages triggered PTSD in his then-girlfriend, who got PTSD in the first place because of her abusive father. Had that been brought to my attention, oh, idk, FIFTEEN FUCKING YEARS AGO, that would also aided in curbing that behavior.

They broke up long ago, but he's still mad at me, wtf.

Anyway, sorry about your ex's PTSD, but I'm better than "hangtime kid." Firstly, I'm not a kid. Secondly, that behavior exemplifies a version of me that no longer exists. It got me upset because he made it sound like I'm still 18 years old, but I'm way better than that. For starters, I'm not a "kid." I'm 33 years old, not the same 18 year old kid who wore his hair long and wore Adidas track suits.