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Category Archives: Anger

Up until now this has been an outlet for only my personal grief. And yet, the events of the last three weeks have me reeling, attempting to process such acts of hatred.

I feel like we are spinning out of control. But then my rationality kicks in and says “there is NO control”. As a person who has had to rebuild their entire moral structure and belief system, I simply cannot understand the hate that can be emotionally and physically perpetrated upon a fellow human being. And what for? Perceived differences? Generational implanted racism? Power plays? Any and all of those “answers” are disgusting and deplorable.

Humanity is an amalgam: we are each capable of loving kindness and also of unspeakable cruelty. We are all connected. We laugh the same, cry the same, bleed the same, suffer the same. We all feel love, grief, joy and fear. Separateness is an illusion.

Fear is the birth place of suffering; it is where hate and insecurity begin. We fear change, we fear death, we fear being abandoned or not accepted; we give too much substance and power to fear and it’s eating us alive.

Labels and titles mean nothing. They only carry weight because we choose to allow it. They serve only to continuously divide us. Power is a dangerous ambition. History has shown that those in power will always use fear to control others. And, yet, control is an illusion. It too only works when we give our permission, in the form of apathy and compliance.

Media and government use fear as a means to herd us and to attempt to control us. But we are not puppets; we are powerful in our unity and by choosing kindness and compassion we can begin to heal, both ourselves and each other.

Collectively, our eyes are open — and now we must open our hearts and minds.

There is no enemy, there is only us. Every time one of us bears silent witness to violence perpetrated on others, we are the enemy. Every time we make derogatory comments about others, we are the enemy. Look in the mirror. You are the future. I am the future. We can make it better by choosing compassion. We must have empathy for not only our beloved, but also for those we fear and misunderstand.

FDR said it best: “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

We must choose to act from love. We must treat each other compassionately. We must let go of fear. This is the only way forward.

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Shifting of the seasons
takes the breath from my lungs,
hard and swift.
assaulted, I surrender.

Cold, bright mornings;
biting wind
brings the promise of
long, dark nights
and frozen earth underfoot.

Choked with longing,
my blood quickens;
the urge to bury oneself
intensely appealing.

Fifteen years young;
so different, and yet the same.
she, my collective best
gone to dust,
reminiscence.

Autumn colors resurrect
joys long past.
then quickly,
awaken a beastly rage
longing to tear
worlds limb from limb.

My Dearest Zev,

I miss you with the same ferocity as the day you departed this world. Through the years, even as the intensity wanes, it sends echoes rippling back; muscle memory crippling my forward motion. Rage is ever present; an uninvited passenger.

And sorrow sits beside me; keeping me company in the empty hours of the dark, caressing my cheek, reminding me that I am not alone. And yet, that alone is no comfort. The brightest star in my universe no longer shines for my eyes to see; your love is but a trail of vapor, a whisper on the wind. Memories are mine to cherish, yet the solace they bring is bitter. All time stopped for me the moment you died. The emptiness follows like a black cloud.

Your Dad wrote that he feels an intense desire to scream as loud and as long as he can, yet he does not, for fear that he will be unable to stop. I think that perfectly sums up the ferocious appetite that eats away at our insides every minute the clock ticks past.

I am forever angry at the chaos of the universe for allowing you to be pulled away from us after only eight years. I am well aware that the time any of us has here is not guaranteed, and fleeting at best, but that does not stop the overwhelming sense of injustice I feel.

I love you with every cell of which I exist.; from this body holding me,

Mama

Anguished, primal scream
Rage like fire, burns out and through
Squelch then suffocate

Tumultuous tears
Sorrow cascading down cheeks
Gently pelts the earth

Feels like drowning
This place of fear; dark and hot
Resistance futile

Not merely crying
Wracked, full body sobbing
Exhaustion, release

Eyes cast down, cheeks wet
An outsider on strange turf
Seeking compassion

Looking to the future through lenses of the past is like trying to see a clear reflection in a shattered mirror…

A kaleidescope of dreams, some distant, half remembered, others vivid and achingly palpable.

My mind overlays past memory fragments onto the present moment, creating a crystalline, multilayered tapestry which distorts my view and chokes forth sorrow previously swallowed which I had thought long since buried. It’s as if in an attempt to reconcile what has changed, what is broken. A desperate appeal to the universe to right the wrongs, fill in the cracks, render a new reality.

I feel left with little choice but to abandon the past and forge ahead. Creating new memories and traditions. But that is easier said than done. For honor through memory is vitally important. So, how to carry the memory of what was into to the tomorrow of what will be? Without the shadowy weight of the pain, the longing, the deep ache. The rage.  The sense of injustice. The ever-present sorrow.

I feel crushed and broken this week. My wounds are still too fresh to bear the weight of the pain I now see everyday in some of the young kids I am working with.

Scars in such delicate souls. A system that is utterly failing. A cycle of negativity that only breeds more punishment and fear. And no way for me to make it better.

If I weren’t in tears, I would be raging against the injustices of our world. And many a day, I am. But anger is useless if it isn’t turned to positive action; molded into a vessel of change.

I grieve for my fellow human beings who are suffering, or have suffered and are now dealing with the scars left behind, on a regular basis. And when I grieve for children, the sorrow and the helplessness is so very intense. Like a flame boring it’s way to the center of me.

There isn’t anything I can do, beyond serving as a positive role model for these children. I cannot save them. I cannot change their home life. I cannot undo what they have seen or had perpetrated upon them.

I know full well that there are thousands, if not millions, of children all over the world who suffer either emotionally, physically, mentally or a combination thereof. But having it in my face all the time is proving to be more than I can take. What the answer is, I do not know. I only know how it makes me feel; crushed and deeply sorrowful.

My brain hijacked my thoughts the other evening while driving home from a strenuous roller derby practice. I was completely blindsided; given no choice, no forewarning.

Memories of Zev’s time in the hospital barraged my thoughts. Forceful, peircing, overpowering. All I could do was cry and scream, while griping the steering wheel, navigating the dark night.

As if a flood gate had been opened, the hot tears fell in a steady torrent for a good ten minutes. I was powerless to stop the flashes in my mind’s eye. Reliving a time I work hard not to revisit. The tests, the agony of waiting, her coma-like state.

Sobbing and shrieking in the cold void of my car. Made invisible by the pitch dark. I felt raw, powerless and angry.

I am learning that I do not handle rage well. Firstly, I don’t immediately recognize it for what it is. Secondly, it gives me headaches and makes me feel absolutely homicidal. Lastly, I don’t know what the fuck to do with it.

When I am deeply sorrowful, melancholic or simply longing for a proverbial walk down memory lane, I know that I have mastered many outlets to channel these feelings, so I tap into one (or several), and voila!

Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve felt angry plenty since Zev’s death. A quick walk in the woods, belting out a song along with my mp3 player, or a good long sobbing cry, and that anger subsides enough that I can function. But I am not used to this intense rage. It is as though I am a rat in a cage who cannot escape. All I can do is feel the rage. Let it bubble and froth within me. No way to get out. It festers until it literally makes me ill.

The only conclusion I can come to is that I have not given myself the space or time to grieve in too long. So this fury has grown within me and taken root. Or perhaps it is merely a “stage” I hadn’t previously reached. Either which way, I do not like it and I want to make it disappear!

Interestingly, I just typed the word rage into thesaurus.com and found that they consider one of it’s synonyms to be bitterness. While I feel quite familiar with being bitter, I also recognize that I am not the best at knowing how to deal with it when it arises. Bitterness makes me squirm…

I suppose that is because Zev was so full of life; she spread her love far and wide. I choose to continue spreading her love (and my own) to the best of my ability, rather than being bound by such things as rage and bitterness. There is no lesson to be learned in living within a cage built of your own making. What kind of life is that anyway?!

I used to prescribe to clichés such as “life is what you make it”… but no longer is it possible for me to believe in statements like this.

To believe such now would only mean that I am somehow deserving of separation from the one true, great love of my life. My brilliant, vibrant, sweet, generous, thoughtful darling girl.

And no matter how I hash it out and pour guilt and responsibility upon my own head, I cannot make sense of what I could have done in this life to deserve such suffering… which is why I no longer believe in karma.

Our world is ruled by chaos alone; and she is one cold-hearted bitch!

Feeling raw. Open and vulnerable. Hemorrhaging emotions.
Tears silently flow. But the pain is not washed away.
Attempts to quiet my whirling thoughts fail miserably.
Empathy flooding my everything. Helpless. Bereaved.
Spinning out into the ether. Overwhelmed. Overflowing.