An arsonal of rage part 2

Fucking shit balls. Fuck a doodle do. Shitting monkey demons. I’m so incredibly enraged. For the love of god is the laws of physics and probability formed against me and my family?
Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit. Fucking shit.
Surgery. Nineteenth. Birthday. Mine. Fuck.
And what’s worse about this god almighty terrible situation all I can do about it is swear at it. I’m powerless to do anything. I want to punch someone but nobody deserves the pain. I hate this. I hate this so much. I want to scream and shout and destroy everything. I know it’s selfish to want something gone so badly that you want the whole of everything to just go away for a while but I do. I am a bold selfish person.
I don’t want to have to explain this shitty situation to my teachers and my friends who are also powerless to this god forsaken time.
As I sit here in my chair in dads office, crying for the first time about all this shit, I want to just sit here and scream. But I don’t want anyone to hear me. I don’t want to be what they think that I ought to be. I’m not. I’m not crying because I’m sad or I’m breaking. I’m crying because I am so fucking mad. I am so mad that there’s nothing that can calm me down. There is nothing I can’t deal with but just because I can deal with it doesn’t mean that it’s not painful as fuck holding it back.

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2 comments

  1. Pingback: On rage (as an empowered and productive member of society) | Richard Hall's Space
  2. moodlemuse · February 16, 2014

    It’s been a while since I read this, and have thought about you an your mum often. I wanted to share a story with you. I once had a near head on collision. I saw the car coming and decided to stay on my path and hope they realised what was happening and went back to their own side of the road. There were tall trees on either side of this beautiful shady country road I always enjoyed driving along – at least until that day. They didn’t notice me, so I had to swerve at the very last minute, and then they did notice me, and did a 360 degree turn around me at 110 km an hour and we both kept driving as if nothing happened.

    I saw my friends at my destination and hugged them as if they were back from the dead, because I was back from the dead. I wanted to hang a sign around my neck – “I nearly died – hug me”. I am sure I would have got loads of love an sympathy if I was in hospital with a neck brace, but there was no impact. I didn’t have an accident so why the big deal?

    This was also how it felt when my mother survived cancer when I was 27 yrs old. Survived? oh ok lots of people die from that aren’t you lucky! LUCKY!!!! ???? I FACED death for a moment of eternity – I looked it in the eye. Have you ever done that? The people who have not had to do that – yet – are the lucky ones. One day they will face it and then the shock will be greater. That doesn’t make me ‘lucky’, it makes me unlucky. It makes you unlucky.

    For all the benefits I found in facing life and death at a young age, would I wish that upon another young person? No. I would say enjoy your ignorance, complain about your parents. One day , one day, you will know. As you are one of the ‘unlucky’ ones who faces this reality early in life, I would like to share with you how it affected me – for good and bad. My father died suddenly of a heart-attack when I was 15. Family unit gone -provider gone – no warning. The shock took a while to wear off. I went snow skiing with friends a few months later and found the fresh air and snow a healing place. It was my first holiday away from my family with a bus load of friends. I looked at them as a kaleidoscope that would change – any minute now this could all disappear. Somehow this didn’t make me sad it made it more beautiful. So as I sat on that chairlift – looking at the mountains I decided to embrace life with two hands and shake every ounce of joy and beauty out if I could while I was alive. My journey so far has been adventurous, unconventional, delightful and painful. I certainly won’t go to my grave wishing I had lived.

    My biological father also died from suicide when I was 17. The angst associated with losing someone with an unresolved relationship is far greater. That pain has been deep and long lasting, and I have found (am finding) ways to resolve the pain and loss of what could have been.

    Aside from my ability to cease the moment, another unexpected outcome from my teenage grief was my sense of other people’s pain and grief. So many people hold someone dear in their heart who has passed on. I ask questions other’s won’t and then I listen to the answers. People have told me things they have never told anyone else and this becomes my treasured possession and privilege to listen. I am not afraid of the dark real side of life and death. I have walked through the fire and been made stronger for the experience. But I don’t wish that pain, grief and harsh reality on anyone. If life sucks and you have to face it young, then please realise that you are not the only one. There are others who know how unfair this is and are OK with you being angry, swearing, quiet, crying, whatever. Do what you have to to get through today and tomorrow. Cope or not cope, its OK. Time will go on either way, life and death will go on either way, and your feelings are OK, either way.

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