Anger. The Bible talks about anger a lot. Anger is usually bad in the Bible. For instance, it was Moses's impatience and anger with his people that kept him out of the promised land. Paul cautions to be angry and do not sin. I could think of other examples, but this post isn't supposed to be a Bible lesson. ;)
Elizabeth and I have been attending a few grief workshops and a once-a-month suicide survivors support group. The survivors group has been particularly beneficial. All grief is harsh and hurtful and valid. Suicide grief is it's own special kind of pain. It adds a layer of emotion that is indescribable and full of regrets and pain that never stops. The facilitators at the group recommended I write about my experience with my anger. I told them I would try. I will try.
I've never really been an angry person. I see it as a weakness, and I see it as detrimental to the process of getting through life. I have a tendency toward big verbal explosions far apart from one another when provoked enough to get angry, but daily anger, carrying anger, well, it was always too heavy for me.
I was angry at Storm the night he died. I was at the end of an emotional rope from a series of stressful events. I needed him to support me. I was the one going through the hard time, and goodness knows I had certainly supported him through some rough things. I was literally broken and bleeding and unable to handle any more stress. He failed. He got drunk instead. He became belligerent over something stupid, and I exploded. I knew I was crazy, and I kept telling him that I knew I was acting crazy, but that I needed him to help me. I NEEDED HIM TO HELP ME!! He killed himself instead. I have not stopped feeling angry since.
I don't know what to do with it, or how to express it constructively. I attacks me. It overwhelms me, and I give in to it.
I am angry about so many things. I am angry for so many reasons that it would take days to express them all. My life was literally shattered and Storm took it from me. There was no reason. No reason at all for him to do this to us.
Storm and I met at work. I was his brand new boss. From the beginning, it was like we were communicating in our own space, like we created our own little world together. We were obsessed with one another. I wanted to be with him more than I wanted to breathe. He wanted to be with me, and we were honest about our need for one another, and naked in truth before each other. It was frightening. Terrifying, and exhilarating. It was us versus the world, and I knew he was the one single human being I could trust outside of my parents. Our love was intense, and consuming, and it ruled my world. I spent all of my days trying to make his life better, and I thought he felt the same about me.
No matter what we wanted to do, together, we could do it. We escaped Illinois and moved to Oregon with everything we owned stuffed in our van. We started over with almost nothing, and the two of us became successful together. We learned to garden, brilliantly, together. Everything that we put our hearts and hands to the Father blessed. He blessed us so mightily.
At the end of his life, there was no reason for Storm to be this way. Our life was, as it always had been, wonderful and improving. He was working, I was working, we were making good money and leading a very comfortable life. Our family was growing, and our life was full of good things. Every day I gave thanks for the love he gave me. To describe my life I used words like idyllic, happy, fun, filled with love.
That is why I am so angry. Because he took that from us both! He took that from my daughters, whom he loved, and the grandbabies, whom he adored. He took the sense of security and love that came with being near Storm. He took our joy, our delight, and all of the beauty that he brought into my life. He taught me how to love in this ridiculously huge way, he built this life for us to delight in one another and enjoyment of all that the world offers, and then ripped it away from me rudely, completely, and with a shrug of a shoulder. At the end of the movie Jumanji, all of the things created by the boardgame are sucked back into the board in a great vortex like a great big bathtub drain. That's exactly what happened to all of the good things he brought with him in that moment.
Because of him, I will never not know what this feels like. I will never not see him die before my eyes. I will never not see that insolent shrug. I will never not remember it. Because of him, I will never trust fully again. Because of him, I will probably never have another relationship. Because of him, I am broken and battered and bruised and overwhelmed every day. Because of him, I am angry enough to cause injury to myself, and break the things in my home. Because of him, my life has been in complete chaos for months and months, and I cannot overcome that. I cannot get to a new normal, because normal died on my living room floor, in front of my eyes. I can only get up tomorrow and do what I can put my hands on. Everything else is irrelevant to that. Because of him I can only share memories of Grand-dude with the grandbabies...I cannot share grand-dude. Because of him roses make me cry. Because of him the sunshine doesn't feel as good. Because of him I cry every day. Because of him love doesn't live here anymore.
In the end, I will recover, because I choose to. I will give the anger over to Yahweh, and hope that he will help me to overcome it, or at least, to use it constructively, if that is possible. I will pray daily, and hope for recovery, and someday, I will realize that I am not angry anymore. I want to heal. I want to move on. I want to be free of this pain and uncertainty and mostly, most of all, the anger. I want to enjoy the wonderful things in my life without the "buts" on the end of them. I want to love my life again.
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