Tag Archives: Anger

Good Things

I remember thinking (rather naively) as a child that it seemed whatever my parents wanted to happen, would happen. I thought that they somehow ‘willed’ whatever they wanted and the ‘Universe’ took care of them. As a girl of 8 years of age, I thought this was how the world worked. I was priveleged. I felt deserving. Life was good.

My mom died when I was 16. It wasn’t an accident or unexpected, but cancer. She was sick, then there was surgery and chemo and radiation. Then remission. Then months of uncertainty that led to me being in a hospital room seeing the words ‘DNR’ and knowing exactly what they meant. The cancer came back and we were given months.

I was so many things during that time that it’s hard to even write about it all. I was relieved that her suffering would end. I was terriffied of losing her. I was scared of what life without her would be like. I was sad beyond anything I ever imagined possible. I was lost. I did not know what happened. What had we done to deserve this?

When Benny and I were struck by my car, I remember thinking it couldn’t be real. It was like watching something happen to someone else. Saying good bye to him and telling his sister was beyond awful. Imagining our lives without him was heartbreaking. Planning his memorial was surreal. Living the last 5 years without my son have been HARD. Again, what had we done to deserve this?

This past year has been tough. No, that’s false, this past year has been shit. Not losing-a-loved-one-shit, but shit just the same. My  patience has been tested time and again and Murphy’s Law seems to befall us more than most. WHY? What did we do to deserve this?

When the bad things pile up it gets harder to see the good things behind them. I know that they are there, but man I am having a hell of time finding them right now. When I go dark and really sit around and think about it, maybe I only deserve bad things. Otherwise, why would they keep happening?

I am in my new house surrounded by all of my stuff again (finally) and this is what I see. I think the road to get here has finally taken it’s toll on me. All of my attempts to brush off the last year as part of ‘the journey’ is crap. I’m tired of making lemonade, please pass the grapes so that I can make some wine instead.

I just want good things to happen. I want to be 8 again and believe that what I ‘will’ will happen. I want to feel worthy of good things again. I probably need to change my way of thinking, but for right now, pity party, table of 1 please.

 

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Don’t Look

I’m scrolling through social media, just trying to unwind or kill a couple minutes. I love the pictures of my friends baby, or the cute animal videos. It’s nice to just lose myself for a few minutes amongst the chaos.

And then there it is. A video, a picture someone posted without thinking. It’s a picture of an awful car accident that they took as they were driving by, or a video of a lifeless baby. It’s been shared by countless others and I can’t blame them for sharing it to.

It still makes me cringe. I cannot look. I do not want to view someone else’s worst moment. I have enough vivid memories of my own.

I don’t know why we feel it’s ok to share these images? Have we become that apathetic? I would be horiffied if any one of the people that were there with us in the street whipped out their phone and took pictures or started filming. To my knowledge that didn’t happen, but what if it did? What if it was shared? Would it humanize it a bit more?

I’m sad that we feel so little for others that we feel it is ok to do this. Please think before you post. That is someone’s child, mother, brother, friend.

10 Months ‘AA’

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I don’t really know what to say.  I cannot believe that it’s been 10 months.  10 months since I held him. 10 months since I kissed him.  10 months since I breathed in his little boy smell.  10 months since I’ve seen his smile. 10 months since I laughed at his antics.  10 months since I shook my head and secretly smiled when he was misbehaving.  10 months.

I have a lot of anger.  I’m not really sure what or who I’m angry at, but I’m angry all the same.  I’m angry that we have to live in a world without my son.  I’m angry that Darcy doesn’t have a sibling.  I’m angry that people have disappointed me.  I’m angry that time keeps marching by, yet I’m still stuck here.  I’m not sure where ‘here’ is though, some place between the past and the future.  I couldn’t really call it the ‘present’ because I don’t always feel like I’m here.  I just exist.

My therapist thinks I’m using my anger so that I don’t have to deal.  I would agree.  Being angry is so much easier though!  It’s easier to write people off rather than deal with the fact that they have disappointed you.  I enjoy how freeing it feels to have a good rant and let it all out.  It keeps people away and leaves me less vulnerable.  They can’t hurt me as much from farther away.  I want to go back to my bubble, where there was never any judgment, just acceptance and support.  

I don’t know where to go from here.  The common theme seems to be that this is about everyone else and at some point it has to be about me.  I have to own my emotions, no matter how awful they feel.  I have to stop turning away from the hurt.  I have to try to be me, but not the old me, that person no longer exists.  

I think back to where we were a year ago and I have no idea how we got here.  Sometimes it feels like I’m living someone else’s life.  This wasn’t supposed to happen!  We’re not supposed to be here!  I want to yell this, but there’s no one to yell at.  My wise friend Sue said it best the other day when she said that it’s amazing at how little control we have.  Just one little thing can set something in motion that you can’t undo.  

So here I am, scared to move forward and scared not to.  Terrified of feeling empty.  I miss my son.

Disability Insurance

My disability insurer had decided that I need to be evaluated by their own psychiatrist to continue my benefits.  Had that been explained to me, then I would have been able to prepare myself mentally, but that was never said to me.  Instead, I returned home from vacation with a required meeting set up for today with their therapist-in Boston.

I called right away to see if I could a) change the appointment time; b) change the appointment location.  I was told by my case manager that I was required to provide 5 days notice.  I told her that I was out of town and did not receive what they had sent in the mail.  I also told her that I do not drive beyond 15-20 miles from my house.  Her reply was that it is not their problem that I was on vacation for 3 weeks and that driving was not a requirement of my job, therefore I had to figure a way to get there or lose my benefits.

If you know me well, you can only imagine that I handled that kind of attitude with grace and kindness…uhuh.  Suffice it to say, she was trying to see what she could do to change the appointment (‘oh, we’ve already paid the therapist’).  When questioned about why they wouldn’t just seek the advice of my therapist that I’ve been seeing for 9 months I was told that it is their right to have their own folks ‘evaluate’ me.  So Parker took off the morning to drive me to Boston to see ‘their’ therapist.  

When we pulled into our spot on Beacon Street, a gold Chrysler 300M pulled into the spot right behind us.  I think my stomach fell to the floor as I fled towards the building.  I hadn’t encountered a car that looked like mine yet and the timing couldn’t be worse.  Mine was consequently destroyed (as it should be).

So I walked into the therapists office a little in shock.  I was already seriously worried about having to talk to a complete stranger about everything, but seeing the 300 really pushed me over the edge.  I had not seen my therapist in 3 weeks because we had been on vacation and then she was.  Last Saturday I had my first little panic attack since the accident.  I was angry.  Here I was paying into insurance and they were doing what was in their best interest, not my own.  By the time I walked into that office I was a mess.  An angry mess, but a mess.

Let me tell you about this ‘evaluation.’  Instead of calling my therapist and asking whatever had triggered this whole ‘evaluation’ in the first place, they will be using the following information to determine if I will continue to receive benefits – a 300+ true/false questionnaire with questions like, ‘do read mechanics magazine,’ or, ‘do you want to kill yourself or anyone else.’  Talk about getting to the point!  Then I had to do what the therapist called a cognitive review or something of that nature and read sentences or draw pictures.  He then asked 5 questions about depression (in which he was very leading) and reviewed a questionnaire that I had filled out.  This is supposed to take the place of meeting with my therapist one on one for 9 months, double sessions, once a week?  Are they serious??

He didn’t pry, but asked questions about the accident, which frankly, I don’t really talk about.  Imagine telling a complete stranger in the span of 2 hours every minute detail about the worst 7 seconds of your life.  It took me months to talk to my therapist about it.  My favorite part of it all was when he asked me the 5 depression questions and told me that I scored high.  Wow, big freaking shock there you ass!  And then he went into the benefits of meds to which I shut him up.  It’s just not for me.

I’m angry that my insurance company put me through this.  I had a shit day.  I had a shit weekend leading up to it.  And now I have to wait a week to find the results.  I felt forced to sit in that room and answer absurd questions from a stranger.  I hope that none of them ever loses a child and have to go through what I did today.  Screw you Mutual of Omaha.

Rant

I am angry. I am disappointed. I am so fucking tired of the people in our lives letting us down. People who are supposed to be there for us, take care of us. I’m so tired of lowering my expectations. It is unfair. I’m so tired of fixing their fucking issues. I’m tired of the immaturity, the inability to be responsible for anything!!

For the life of me I do not understand how. I really don’t. How people can continuously fuck up their own lives and the lives of everyone else around them, yet nothing ever happens to THEM. Unbelievable.

End Rant.