Hi Friends,
I apologize for the increadibly not creative subject of this post. I just feel so angry that that is all I can think about or feel. I had to write about it because who wants to talk about someone elses anger and what really is there to say? I wanted to talk about this experience I had right after I got the terrible news about my Dad. While I was sitting there trying to process the information--I had this almost dream or vision of myself running out into the dark night and screaming as I spun in circles at the stars. I felt such intense anger at...the universe. I felt so deeply angry that it was searing. I wanted to split open. On the outside I know that I appeared calm, numb, disconnected and likely was in some real shock but truthfully my insides in some deep place were screaming. Splitting open and screaming at the dark sky. How and Why did this happen? I think that is what my scream would have said. Or maybe my scream would just have said, NO...No, I will not accept this, No, I cannot accept this, take it back, now.
Somehow or somewhere along the line I lost that scream or it went away but the vision stayed with me. I got tired. The numbness spread and I walked around like a talking zombie for a few days. Then I got sad. Then I cried and cried and cried. I stopped crying and then started again. I cry every single day. Sometimes I cry a little and sometimes I cry a lot. I think if I didnt cry I would feel weird at this point. I think just thinking I have not cried today might actually make me cry. Anyway, the crying is not surprising and seems normal. The numbness seems normal and also is not surprising but the anger. The anger is surprising, and though I've read it is normal, is much harder to manage. Mainly because I dont want to be angry. I want to be accepting. It seems so much healthier and saner but pretending I am not angry when I really am does not seem sane so...here I sit, typing. Fuming.
I wish I could sort out what I am exactly angry about or who I am angry at? The simple answer is that I am angry my Dad took his own life and is gone. The longer and more complex answer is that I am angry at mental illness, the healthcare system, myself, my Dad, and every single circumstance that lead to him taking his own life. I am angry at what has happened and what I am forced to accept. And I am angry that I am angry about it. I want to run and scream and scream and never stop. I want to act out. I want to wear black nail polish and dye my hair black and only wear black torn dirty clothes. I want to drink Tequila while smoking a million cigarettes and listening to angry loud music while angry mean people sit around me. I want to act the fuck out. I want to wear a shirt that says I hate people. I want to say fuck off to every single person who looks at me like they feel sorry for me. I want to say dont feel fucking sorry for me because I hate you.
But as much as it was fun to write that, fun to read it, and fun to imagine it. I dont do that. I dont really want to do that. This is what I do do. I wake up when my alarm goes off. I drink a cup of coffee. I take a shower. I dry my hair. I wake my kids up. I make them breakfast and nag them to eat it. I get them dressed. I get myself dressed. I put my daughter on the bus. I drop my son at pre-school. I drive to work and cry. I pull myself together. I go to work. I sit with nice people who actually care about the world and want to make things better. I say and do things that would imply I actually also want to make things better. I drive home and cry. I think about my Dad and how he is gone. I think about the Universe and what that means and try to figure out why? I think I need to learn how to accept this. I think I need to learn something. I think I will write my blog because maybe I will learn something.
I write my blog. I learn nothing much. I think it is important that I clarify that I am not going to drink Tequila nor have I seriously considered it. I think how shitty it is that when I am angry the person I still think to hurt is myself. I have a brief moment where I feel proud of myself that though I did imagine this scenario of self destruction--I did not actually particpate in it. I think this is progress in a somewhat profound way and feel something like happy for a moment or moments. I realize I am ok. I am angry but I can feel that feeling and not hurt myself and not hurt anyone else either. I am angry and I know it will pass and realize it mostly has. My anger, it seems, likes to be aknowledged and dealt with. My anger likes to be validated and the written word seems to have done the trick. I still see myself screaming at the stars in my own little nigthmare and that vision is burned into my brain. That vision is how I feel. Split open and cracked apart. Screaming at the universe. And waiting for an answer. xxK
I apologize for the increadibly not creative subject of this post. I just feel so angry that that is all I can think about or feel. I had to write about it because who wants to talk about someone elses anger and what really is there to say? I wanted to talk about this experience I had right after I got the terrible news about my Dad. While I was sitting there trying to process the information--I had this almost dream or vision of myself running out into the dark night and screaming as I spun in circles at the stars. I felt such intense anger at...the universe. I felt so deeply angry that it was searing. I wanted to split open. On the outside I know that I appeared calm, numb, disconnected and likely was in some real shock but truthfully my insides in some deep place were screaming. Splitting open and screaming at the dark sky. How and Why did this happen? I think that is what my scream would have said. Or maybe my scream would just have said, NO...No, I will not accept this, No, I cannot accept this, take it back, now.
Somehow or somewhere along the line I lost that scream or it went away but the vision stayed with me. I got tired. The numbness spread and I walked around like a talking zombie for a few days. Then I got sad. Then I cried and cried and cried. I stopped crying and then started again. I cry every single day. Sometimes I cry a little and sometimes I cry a lot. I think if I didnt cry I would feel weird at this point. I think just thinking I have not cried today might actually make me cry. Anyway, the crying is not surprising and seems normal. The numbness seems normal and also is not surprising but the anger. The anger is surprising, and though I've read it is normal, is much harder to manage. Mainly because I dont want to be angry. I want to be accepting. It seems so much healthier and saner but pretending I am not angry when I really am does not seem sane so...here I sit, typing. Fuming.
I wish I could sort out what I am exactly angry about or who I am angry at? The simple answer is that I am angry my Dad took his own life and is gone. The longer and more complex answer is that I am angry at mental illness, the healthcare system, myself, my Dad, and every single circumstance that lead to him taking his own life. I am angry at what has happened and what I am forced to accept. And I am angry that I am angry about it. I want to run and scream and scream and never stop. I want to act out. I want to wear black nail polish and dye my hair black and only wear black torn dirty clothes. I want to drink Tequila while smoking a million cigarettes and listening to angry loud music while angry mean people sit around me. I want to act the fuck out. I want to wear a shirt that says I hate people. I want to say fuck off to every single person who looks at me like they feel sorry for me. I want to say dont feel fucking sorry for me because I hate you.
But as much as it was fun to write that, fun to read it, and fun to imagine it. I dont do that. I dont really want to do that. This is what I do do. I wake up when my alarm goes off. I drink a cup of coffee. I take a shower. I dry my hair. I wake my kids up. I make them breakfast and nag them to eat it. I get them dressed. I get myself dressed. I put my daughter on the bus. I drop my son at pre-school. I drive to work and cry. I pull myself together. I go to work. I sit with nice people who actually care about the world and want to make things better. I say and do things that would imply I actually also want to make things better. I drive home and cry. I think about my Dad and how he is gone. I think about the Universe and what that means and try to figure out why? I think I need to learn how to accept this. I think I need to learn something. I think I will write my blog because maybe I will learn something.
I write my blog. I learn nothing much. I think it is important that I clarify that I am not going to drink Tequila nor have I seriously considered it. I think how shitty it is that when I am angry the person I still think to hurt is myself. I have a brief moment where I feel proud of myself that though I did imagine this scenario of self destruction--I did not actually particpate in it. I think this is progress in a somewhat profound way and feel something like happy for a moment or moments. I realize I am ok. I am angry but I can feel that feeling and not hurt myself and not hurt anyone else either. I am angry and I know it will pass and realize it mostly has. My anger, it seems, likes to be aknowledged and dealt with. My anger likes to be validated and the written word seems to have done the trick. I still see myself screaming at the stars in my own little nigthmare and that vision is burned into my brain. That vision is how I feel. Split open and cracked apart. Screaming at the universe. And waiting for an answer. xxK
thank you for sharing. i'm sure you already know about the 5 stages of grieving and how you can bounce between the 5 until you are ready.
ReplyDeletemy mother passed when i was 22. and a year and a half ago my father died in a tragic car accident. i learned of the accident and death via facebook. i was seething rage.
it truly helps me to read how this is affecting you. on july 23rd of this year i tried to take my life by ingesting a liter and a half of vodka in two hours and taking 16mg of klonopin. by the grace of god and the fellowship, i was found. the pain i was in when i decided i could not go on anymore is not in my capacity to describe. i thought from the bottom of my being that my children, family and friends would truly be set free if i was no longer on this earth. in the moment i decided to go forward with my plan, i had no doubt that my actions would bring peace and a sense of relief to all that were vested in me. by the grace of god, i am sitting here. i was furious when i came to and was living. today, i know that if my actions had succeeded i would have had that ripple affect my years of drunkenness had.
keep writing mama. while it is a release for you, it helps me stay sober so i thank you. your pain is my pain and like you said, you are not alone. xoxo
Thanks mama D--I am so sorry for your losses. Your words really helped me and I thank you for sharing them with me. I am glad we both have the fellowship and each other. Lots of healing to you. XxxxK
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