Angry

I'm so angry. Where is this anger coming from, and where can I put it? There is no safe place, no unmoving target at which I can aim all this rage. Do I aim it at a broken person, whose awareness of their own actions was at an all-time low? Do I aim it at family, whose only sin is to attempt to coach me, to tell me to get moving on my own life? Do I aim it at everyone I see around me with everything I once had, but have lost? How would that work? How would it be fair or even reasonable? It just wouldn't, that's all.

So the anger stays right here, locked right to my chest, holding and holding and keeping me wrapped tight.

I am so, so angry. So hurt. So fucking frustrated and thwarted and lost. The only bright spot in all the darkness is that I know this will pass. I know someday I will feel less like this. And I don't resent that quite as much today as I did yesterday, and even less than the day before. There comes a point in the grinding crush of deep sorrow where you begin to look forward to that small solace. "One fine day, I will wake up and not think of this as soon as I open my eyes. One fine day, I will go for long stretches without feeling the stabbing reminder of what I lost. One fine day, it will be a wistful, achy glancing thought, not a looming presence in every aspect of my life." I am now waiting for that day.

But for now, I'm so angry.

So fucking angry.