Seeing Red

I am so angry this week I am seeing red. Actually scarlet. I am so angry and the worst part is that I am not sure who I am really angry with.

Unfortunately, my anger seems directed at anyone in my path, whether deserved or not.

I was furious with my mother yesterday. She showed up at my house with my grandmother. My grandmother only wanted to talk about an ex-boyfriend who I haven’t dated in over 15 years. She then proceeded to remind me how poorly my choices in men have been in the past. And she did this on Cinco de Mayo grrrrrrrr!

My mother only wanted to show me more books about death and bought the children and I new clothing for the unveiling. I unleashed a new fit of rage I didn’t even know I was capable of. Twenty four hours later I am able to think, almost calmly, about what she did and know deep down she is trying to do something nice for me. But I feel at times we are living on different planets. A new dress is not going to make me feel better or make the day any less horrific. The very fact that she bought a new dress for this day just truly sent me over the edge. I can’t explain why – it just seemed like the most irrational thing ever. Maybe you have to be me to get this. I have one dead husband and two small children - a new dress is just absurd.

I also have had just about enough with the books on death, grieving and suicide. I won’t read a single one. They are totally useless to me. These books won’t help me cook meals for my children, drive to work or help with homework. They don’t baby sit when I need a five minute break. If they did anything useful, maybe I would keep them around. But these books filled with other people's sad stories and advice – f**k the books is how I feel right now.

I am angry at every single person who thinks they have an answer for something in my life. I just want everyone to stop. I am GRIEVING. This means let me be. Let me grieve in my own way, on my own time and stop trying to rush the process or sugar coat it or whatever the reasoning being the actions. Just let me be sad and mad and angry and stop trying to make this all go away – because the pain, the sorrow, the very fact that my husband is dead by his own hand, is not going anywhere right now – and I am fuming.

I don’t think I am truly angry at my mother or my dead husband. I am just furious at the world and at times with myself. Maybe this is one of those stages I go through – I think I liked the crying stage better.

Today I just needed to get away from everyone and find somewhere to rid myself of some of this excess ferociousness. So I stormed off to the cemetery.

I stomped my way through the cemetery. Suddenly a small truck pulled up right beside me and the man driving asked me if I was OK. To begin, he startled me as he is the first living person I have seen in the cemetery in almost 7 months. Secondly, I wanted to look at him and say, "it is 9:30 in the morning and I am in a cemetery, of course I am not OK!" But I knew it was the anger talking, so I flashed him a fake smile and said I was fine.

I got to your grave and looked at the dirt. I threw rocks and cried. I didn’t feel much better. I cried some more and punched the dirt until my hand hurt. I am sorry, I was just trying to get some of this aggression out and don’t want anyone to feel the force of my anger – because no one deserves it. But I am angry and sad and angry some more and it feels horrible.

As I left I saw a few other people visiting loved ones. I scoffed at them. Of course visiting on a beautiful day is nice, but where were you all when there was five feet of snow to trudge through or the torrential rain which would whip at my face. I felt instantly ashamed of myself, thinking these terrible thoughts about other mourners. Clearly I didn’t shed as much petulance as I hoped.

I pray this livid stage passes soon and without incident. I wanted to throw pots and pans tonight but I refrained. I didn’t take any of this anger out on the children. I kept it bottled up till now. Tonight I would like to throw the computer across the room just to watch it break. I would like to throw glass into the street just to hear it shatter. But I won’t because it is childish and stupid and expensive.

I hope the next stage I enter is calmer and more fun. Maybe it will be laughing uncontrollably until I pee my pants – anything but seeing red.