Tag Archives: anger

ANGER MADE ME SICK

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30. ALLOW YOURSELF TO FEEL SELFISH OR RESENTFUL

  • Enlist the help of someone outside your immediate family to keep track of phone calls, condolence cards, flowers and memorial contributions. This person can be responsible for sending thank you notes and following up. Months and years from now, you may take comfort in reading the cards and remembering the support.

CARPE DIEM:

If the death was recent, ask a close friend to serve as a buffer between you and the world. If the death was longer ago and you feel ready, phone or write a note to someone thanking him for his kind words or deeds at the time of the death. (HEALING A PARENT’S GRIEVING HEART: 100 PRACTICAL IDEAS AFTER YOUR CHILD DIES; Alan D. Wolfelt, PhD; 2005)

If you are a regular reader of this blog, you may have noticed that I skipped numbers 28 and 29. 28 was “WORK ON YOUR MARRIAGE” and 29, “COMMUNICATE WITH YOUR PARTNER ABOUT YOUR SEX LIFE”. I have neither a spouse nor a partner.

Someone to keep track of the phone calls, cards, flowers and memorials would have been very helpful. I was so scattered at the time of Joseph’s death. I know, some time afterward, I did send out some thank yous. I’m not sure I got to everyone. My ex-husband had the visitor book and gave me copies of what appeared to be only every other page. I haven’t gotten around to asking for an update. It’s been almost 12 years now.

A friend and former colleague, who came to the wake, reminded me that night of something I had said to her when we worked together. I hadn’t wanted Joseph to move back in with me because I didn’t want to come home and find him dead in my house, which was exactly what happened. We got together a couple of times since then. She went with me to The Wrecking Club in New York City, a place to smash and break things. It was ungodly hot that day and we had to wear protective gear. I was sweating while wielding a sledge hammer. She didn’t join in. She just stood back and reminded me of things to be angry about. Anger is not something I am comfortable with, but she got me going. At one point, I remember looking at her and asking if she wanted me to hit her. She was so patient with me. I was sick to my stomach by the time I was done. I’m not sure it helped. But I did it.

I have reached out to her since then but haven’t heard back, I don’t know if she changed her number or she’s ignoring me. Today, I called the office where we used to work and left a message on her voicemail. Hopefully, I will hear back from her. I would like to tell her how much I appreciate her.

“BE ANGRY BUT DO NOT SIN” (Ephesians 4:26)

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18. KNOW THAT IT’S OKAY TO FEEL ANGRY

Grieving parents often feel angry – at others whom they perceive caused or contributed to the death, at themselves for letting it happen, at God, even at the child herself for having abandoned them. (HEALING A PARENT’S GRIEVING HEART: 100 PRACTICAL IDEAS AFTER YOUR CHILD DIES; Alan D. Wolfelt, PhD; 2005)

Anger wasn’t one of my feelings. It is not an emotion I am comfortable with. Well, for myself that is. I have no trouble feeling anger at injustice toward other people, but that’s a whole other topic.

It may have crept up here and there. Before Joseph’s death, I had taken him to an appointment with a psychiatrist at a local clinic. He came out saying the doctor told him his diagnosis was “laziness”. THAT pissed me off. Medical professionals, especially in the field of psychiatry, ought to have a better understanding of the people with whom they interact and for whom they prescribe. A little compassion would be appreciated.

I can’t say I was angry about it, but I wondered why my other kids, and their father, didn’t check in on him that day. I had let them all know that I had found packaging from his drug of choice and that I had given him the weekend to find somewhere else to live. It is all too easy and comfortable to take on blame and guilt myself. I wish they had checked in on him. I don’t know that it would have made a difference.

I wish that he would have made a choice to stay. I have smacked his photo on the grave stone and called him a brat, but I don’t feel angry about it, not for long anyway.

I have a difficult relationship with anger. Somewhere, sometime, somehow, I internalized the idea that it is wrong to feel angry. I have seen the pain inflicted by people who just let their anger fly. Anger scares me. (Unless it’s righteous anger, which I experience for others, of course.) If I experience anger for myself, which is rare: and, I try to speak up and out in defense of myself, which is rarer still, I inevitably end up in tears, which is not at all helpful.

I have this awareness, though, that deep within me exists a rage in chains. I don’t know what it is or where it comes from, but it’s there. I wish I could let it out. It’s that Gollum deep inside, that ugly creature I think is me, that if anyone really got to know me they would see.

At some point, in therapy, I became aware that this Gollum is actually a frightened child who feels not good enough. I try to spend time with her, on occasion, and let her know she is loved. 

It’s not easy being me.

Sometime after Joseph’s death, I participated in a meeting at my county’s mental health and addiction services office, a focus group of sorts. They were asking for community input on gaps in services. I told them that there needed to be more long-term residential support for people experiencing co-occurring, mental health and substance use disorders. Joseph had been in rehabs, hospitals, halfways houses…but it was for treatment of one or the other. He needed support for both. I don’t know if that has gotten any better, but I think not.

I worked as a psychiatric screener for a while. I had a guy come in who needed treatment for both. I held him in the unit, with his consent, trying to find an appropriate placement. One day, while I was sent out on another call, management kicked him out, escorted by police. I was angry then! It was run more like a jail than a medical facility. Not long afterward, I found another job. That’s a whole other disappointing story – Partial Hospitalization, Intensive Outpatient program (PHP/IOP).

So, now I’m retired. I guess. I have a hard time admitting it. I take assignments now and then through a company with which I am considered “On Demand”. I’ve also agreed to work in an outpatient private practice one day a week, but no clients yet. Maybe it’s not meant to be. Meanwhile, for the most part, I’m enjoying not working.

(Featured image accessed at https://news.stthomas.edu/publication-article/the-unbearable-sadness-of-being-gollum/)