I’ve talked about the stages of grief and how the “stages” do not come in stages at all. They come in every which way and direction and at any time they want to. Just when you think you’ve surpassed stage 5, stage 2 creeps in unexpectedly and stays for as long as it wants. Eventually, you move on and think “phew, I’m almost to the end!” HA, back to step 1.
Today, I was given quite an eye opener that made me take a realllyyy close look at myself. I grappled with the notion all the way home and as I dragged my tired ass through the door, I finally admitted to myself. I have never left the Anger stage…I have become a mean irritable soul.
It’s been 3 and a half years since I lost Joey. Though I’ve learned to laugh a lot more and try to find joy in small things, there is still an anger that rages inside of me. I try to push it aside or push it deep down into my core. I know I isolate myself so that no one is the wiser. Truth be told, being alone is my preference these days. I desire the quietness of nothing surrounding me. I thought I was doing a good job of controlling it. So, to say that I was taken aback today when I was described as an intimidating, menacing person who makes others walk on eggshells, is acomplete understatement.
I sat in disbelief (and shame) and tried to covey a valid excuse or even a reasonable explanation for my dreadful moods. I would have liked to say it’s the Holiday season, or the stress of everyday life. Maybe that a car cut me off or tailgated me so closely that I had to restrain myself from slamming on the brakes. I could even blame the representative in customer service that didn’t give a rip that my mom’s cell phone service was abruptly disconnected while she traveled abroad or the 5 times I was disconnected. As much as I tried, I couldn’t pinpoint my anger and disdain for everyday life. Is my current life so full of despicable and pitiful struggles that I can’t see beyond the storm?
I’ll admit that at times my anger feels like a tsunami. It slowly and quietly begins to build a furor from the deepest part of me. Nothing I try to do can stop it. It comes violently crashing out, practically destroying those around me. Apparently, I don’t even need the words to prove my animosity. It’s practically written all over my face. Do all those I interact with see me as this unapproachable, mean person? Am I that mean unapproachable person?
I walked way from that conversation in shame. What had a become? Whom had I become? Most importantly, how could I fix it? I have more than my true self deserves. I have a husband that adores me, even when adorable is the furthest from the truth. I have grandchildren whom I would walk on glass in a pit of fire for, and their parents whom were my first genuine and true loves. I work with a group of people that bring joy to my life and whom never let me forget my value. I crave for nothing materialistic but sadly, a tangible thing is not what is lacking. To say that I struggle with each breaking dawn to bring bliss into my life, is an understatement.
Have I truly forgotten how to be happy again?
There will never be anything that can replace the joy of my Joey. No one could ever fill that void. There can be no words, no mementos no good deeds that can make the darkness his loss left bright again. When I wrap my brain around that, it angers me to the deepest part of my soul! I am angry that I was robbed of a son. That my other children were robbed of their brother and their children robbed of an uncle. Grandchildren, a new home, a mother son wedding dance, and so much more was ripped away from me. I was never given a choice. I am pissed that there aren’t any empty spots at my friends Thanksgiving table, and that my neighbor is planning a wedding for her son. I hate that my co-worker just got engaged and that another coworker just had his 2nd baby. I loathe that I have one less person to shop for this Christmas and that our first family picture in almost 4 years is an incomplete family. I detest that my life has been touched by tragedy and that hate has a grip on me. Mostly I hate HATE.
In moving forward, I will tell HATE that it’s time to move on. It’s time to let go of the “Why, me?” I will find a way to replace the anger with the joy that he brought to my life. The way he teased me about the way I answered his calls. The way he laughed from the bottom of his soul. The way he lit up when he sat at the table for dinner. I know I will still feel the sadness and the pain, and that because of it, I know I will never return to the carefree, untroubled me that existed before this horrible tragedy. The time has come to let my soul rest by refusing to live in anger every day. I will move on to step 8. I skip over 7th aceptance ,because I can never accept the fact that my child had to die. Step 8 is forgiveness. To ask for forgiveness from those I hurt and to forgive myself for the pain I cause to others as I blindly travel thru this journey called GRIEF.
- FORGIVE AN MAKE PEACE WITH YOUR BROKEN PIECES