Yesterday was rough, one of those days where if you could just stay in bed and not interact with anyone then it would be the ideal thing to do. But that’s not how it works. I have responsibilities, I’m a parent and I was needed.
The reason it was all so hard was because it was the 3rd anniversary of my Dad’s passing. Here’s the thing about losing someone, grief is a fickle bitch, one day you can be totally fine talking about the person, listening to songs that remind you of them and then that one day on the calendar, which is really just a day because everyday is a little suckier since they’ve been gone and boom you’re a walking time bomb.
I was so angry yesterday, quiet and isolated and so damn angry. Scarily angry, at everything. I don’t even know why, well I do but there wasn’t a trigger point, I didn’t have anything happen I was just really mad, irrationally so.
I just wanted to rage all day and that’s not me. I wanted to smash things and kick things and inflict pain. I was nasty and lashed out and it wasn’t nice. I knew I was doing it but I couldn’t stop. So I tried to stay away.
But why? Why was I angry and not teary, why didn’t I just have a cry and be done with it? It was strange and scary but oddly comforting.
I tried to spend most of the day alone, I walked in the park early to use up some of that aggressive energy, Sir Lickalot was wasted when we got home, then we went to the Pool again because Miss Gremlin wanted to, I had my alone time up on the deck, it went mostly uneventfully, I even wore my swimmers, which made me realise I needed new ones and so with a knot in my stomach so tight, I took myself swimsuit shopping!
Honestly, it was probably the best time to do it, my attention wasn’t focused on the pale whale in the mirror and I was like, fuck it they’ll do. You can’t go wrong with black right?
But then I decided to just have a look around the store and I splurged on myself. I had some retail therapy, by myself and it helped. When I got back home I was still snappy but maybe a little better, I made dinner even though I wanted the order in and go hide in my room, we talked at the table and I started to feel better.
After the kids went to bed I told My Lord Dr King that I wanted a movie with boobs and car chases and all the swears! He was surprised and asked why. I told him how angry I was and I just needed it. He wisely said nothing and put on the appropriate viewing, and after a block of chocolate and the movie I did feel better. I was even able to look at the picture on the wall but only sideways and only a quick glance.
I finally went up to bed but couldn’t sleep so I read for about 2 hours, I could have kept reading but you know, kids on no sleep is never good even when they’re older.
Today I feel much better, not perfect but not really angry anymore.
One day at a time right?