Anger Danger

I’ve read a number of widow boards that talk about the stages of grief and how people who are grieving tend to yo-yo through the stages. I always wondered which stage I was limboing at. But today there was no question about it, I had finally been introduced to the anger stage.

A couple times I had gotten angry, but it was a frustration kind of anger. A bitterness you can chalk it up to. But today was sheer rage. Every fiber in my body trembling from being so overcome with red hot anger. I went from zero to a million in a matter of nano-seconds, all because of an email I received from a fellow colleague.

My team is doing a community service event this Saturday, Cycle for Survival. I’ve mentioned it a dozen of times on here. Tomorrow is an event to kick off the weekend and it’s for all leaders to attend. I have practice during the event, and I was looking to switch times with another team so it wouldn’t interfere. I got one good reason why from a coach on why they couldn’t switch, but another reason I got from the other coach just triggered this black out rage.

When I read the words on the email that they couldn’t switch due to a party they were planning on attending with their significant other, my jaw dropped. Even if George was still alive and my situation had happened to someone else, I would switch. I would put my personal plans aside to help someone out. Especially if it was for community service, and for a something someone cares so deeply about. Cycle for Survival is not some hackneyed event that I’m doing so my team can say they did a community service event. I’m doing it in the memory and to honor my beloved George. It cuts me deeper than anyone could ever imagine. So reading those words on the email made me go insane. The coach came into my office and I went ballistic. Ringing off personal insults so they could feel how bad it stung me. When they finally called for a cease fire, I snapped back into reality and became aware of what was happening. I rushed out of my office an b-lined it for the bathroom. I cried for about 5 minutes until I could face the day again. But the damage was done.

I was shaking with rage, and couldn’t calm my nerves. A fellow W, recommended deep breaths and water, which I did, and it helped. Momentarily. I KNEW I had to apologize for my inappropriate comments, but I STILL couldn’t wrap my mind around this person’s reasoning. I think it’s so selfish, but am I being selfish? Is it selfish for me to assume people will step aside and let me do whatever works out best for me? That’s such an unrealistic assumption to make, but for some reason I think I’m DESERVING of that because of the horrible journey that is laid out in front of me. It hasn’t even been three months yet, for christ sakes. Cut me a goddamn break.

I finally apologized and explained that I never felt that kind of anger before, and that what I said was out of line. I didn’t even touch on their comments for not switching practice times, because I knew it would set me off again. Luckily another coach made the switch. I’m sure they heard the heinous words I was shelling out and thought I was crazy. Grief is making me crazy. I think I’m doing okay and then this happens. There was no control, and it just came on so quickly. I am scared. I’m scared of the next time anger rears it’s unforgiving head in my journey of grieving. I might not be as lucky.

I wish George was around so I could confide in him and seek out his advice. I don’t have a brain chemical imbalance, I have a bloody life imbalance.

Image

Advertisements

About J.

Fitness professional, aspiring writer, college lacrosse coach, widowed at 28, currently dating an Air Force officer who is deployed and documenting the at-home dealings and updates.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s