Anger

“He saw death for the first time in his life,” I heard my husband say. I shook my head and I gasped.

“What?” I felt the anger rise. Anger. Now that was an emotion I never allowed.

“That day that he was all alone and he thought his brother might die…he finally saw death. Since then, he understands and he values life.”

“Saw death!?” I shrieked. I was shaking now with rage. “How!?” I screamed. “It’s always been there! Death under my bed! Death in my hands. Death on the back porch, in the driveway. Death came for my cousins, my uncle, my family. It took my cats, my pets, my rabbit, and it came for my friend. It banged on my door screaming it would come for me next. It was all around me, and you say he just saw it? He was the death giver! He who killed my cats and the animals and snakes. He who threatened to take me next. And you say he only just now saw it! How could he not see it before!?”

I sobbed now and screamed. I held my head and rocked. Anger rose up too quickly and now it was taking me over. I wanted to scream, to pound against those who had hurt me.

“I’m angry with my mother,” I said at last. “I was right there with someone who could help me! I told them what hell I was living. For once, someone was listening! I was heard…and she took it away from me. They addressed it and she lied! She told them I had lied and made damn sure I never saw a therapist again. She told me the therapist saw through my lies. He beat me! And she refused to see because she didn’t want it to be so! I’m angry with her! Because of her, he beat me! And she let him.”

“You’re going to have a lot of anger toward your mother.”

“They worked so hard to convince me I was crazy,” I continued. I couldn’t stop now. “I was dramatic, they said. I was spoiled. I was antagonizing. I was HURT! I WAS ALONE! I WAS LIVING THROUGH TRAUMA AND THEY DIDN’T WANT TO SEE THAT! So they branded me liar, drama queen, crazy. I HELD MY DEAD CAT IN MY HANDS! She was stone cold and stiff. I was ten! I held kittens as they died in my hands over and over again! I WAS SURVIVING A WAR THEY CREATED FOR ME! I WAS ALONE! So I talked to the friends I made up in my mind. They heard and they called me crazy! I wasn’t crazy. I was desperate to survive.”

I wept freely now…for me. Yesterday was a bad day. The bad days…they are the hardest.

I relate to the suffering, the alone, the abandoned. I understand the isolated and quirky. The odd-ball who never fits in so they talk to themselves. These are my kin, my family, my friends. They who know my side of crazy. You’re not crazy, I wish I could say to them. I was like you and you are surviving. Stay strong. It won’t last forever. Nothing lasts forever…not even cold November rain.

 

About the Author: Angela