Little Voices in My Head

There are five stages of grief. Denial, Bargaining, Anger, Depression, and Acceptance. According to the Kubler-Ross  model, these stages are usually experienced after a loss of some sort. They can happen in any order, with any time frame, and can happen concurrently.

I am no stranger to grief.

I seem to be stuck in Anger. Scratch that. I am stuck in PISSED.

I am righteously angry. Almost all the time. Tires low on pressure? Pisses me off. Co-worker being a pain in the ass? Pisses me off. Guy who swore he loved me not being able to keep his DICK in his pants? Pisses me off. Dad has stage 4 colorectal cancer. PISSES ME OFF. See where I’m going with this one?

I’ve done the Denial thing. I am entirely too logically minded to stay in that phase for long. Reality and I may have only a passing aquaintence, but I do know the guy. Bargaining: Pretty darn obvious that if I could give my life for his, I would. If I could offer a better ‘deal’ to Atropos, I would. Depression; inability to eat on a regular basis, sleep, or function in the ‘normal’ world…yeah, those qualify me. Acceptance: NOT GOING TO FUCKING HAPPEN IN THIS LIFETIME, THANKYOUVERYMUCH.

I wish I had the balls to kick some balls and scream and shout at the main annoyances and sources of anger in my life right now. I wish I could tell my family; “Quit being fucking hypocrites and just TELL me what the hell you want from me!” I wish I could tell my co-workers; “No, No I cannot be your go-to gal right now because YOU fucked the pooch.” I wish I could tell some certain members of the planet, (i.e.: my exes) “I am TIRED of hearing ‘well gosh Carissa, you’re so easy to fall in love with, but then shit gets real, and hard, and I just can’t handle that’ BULLSHIT from you! Man the FUCK up.” I wish I could tell cancer; “FUCK YOU. Fuck your cells, fuck your resistance, fuck your family, fuck your dog, fuck your house, fuck your LIFE!” I wish I could. I wish I wish I wish I had that kind of chutzpah. But I don’t. What I DO have is quite a bit of rage. I’ve contemplated releasing the Amazon from her cage; but why punish innocent bystanders? It’s not like she’s capable of discriminating…

I wish I had a target. That would be nice. Some…some…person, or THING, to focus all of this vehement venomous vexation on would be nice…

(I feel the need to add that you, my friends and loved ones, are mucho appreciated and doing your best to be nice to me, and I know that’s not easy right now…but that’s another blog)

Strangely, the ONE person, thing, whatever that I’m NOT angry at, is God. Personally, I feel he is not the cause, but rather the allowance, of loss. I don’t know why, and I don’t think I’ll ever be smart enough to grasp that concept. Not sure I’d want to if I could. But yeah, me and Jesus? We’re cool. Most days, there is only one prayer in my heart, and that prayer is, “Hey God. I’m Angry.” And I’m ok with that. Because I feel HE’S ok with that. I’m keeping the lines open. *shrug* that’s something at least.

Until I get a grip on that whole ‘stage’ thing…I’m sticking with the Anger. It’s a familiar place to be and a comfy spot to land, and hey, they know me here in Anger-land. I have my own pillow.

Carissa the Cantankerous