The anger impels me to run, and so I do.
Underneath the anger, I’m deeply sad. Is anger usually fueled any other way? Is anger a necessary part of grieving? I hate that idea: that my emotions might follow a predictable path; that I’m just like any one else who’s lost someone.
I gnash my teeth until my jaw hurts. I’m angry at being alone. I’m angry there’s no one to take care of me. “Try,” I dare myself. “Try to console me.”
“You have friends and family who care about and for you. You have your wonderful son. You doing the best you can to take care of yourself, and you’ll keep getting better at it.”
My response? I roar: Continue reading Angry at Alone