I hate my anger

Yesterday was one of those days at work where nothing seemed to go right, at least for for first several hours. First off, I got floated to the third floor, where good things don't happen (at least to me), my ID badge decided not to work (which I need to get into security areas) and it took an hour to get it fixed, and I said a dumb thing to a doctor. I felt put upon and the feeling just grew from there. My tone of voice became monotone, and my replies to questions terse. I know that feeling well-- I spent several years in that state of mind in the mid-00's in response to the dismal state of my job and relationships. I learned from that that it doesn't make you feel better, gets you nowhere with coworkers and especially the public, and ends up just making you hate yourself and life. In fact, I quickly fell back into that old familiar bleakness, wishing I would die, hating myself, wanting to curl into a ball, cry. I successfully fought it off, and the rest of the day was okay. But it was frightening, it is always frightening, how quickly and easily it is for me to fall back into that pit of negativity. It is never far from the surface, and it is the source of nearly all of my bad decisions, failures, and lack of achievement. And by extension, the ultimate source of my never ending well of anxiety.

I have to get mentally healthy, I have to fight back against these old demons, if I want to have a gentle old age and not one of internal turmoil anding in suicide. I love life and too many people for that.