Transitioning to Anger

I sometimes toss words around from random theories I don’t fully understand. Not only does it make me sound like I know what’s going on, it makes me feel that way, too. For example, I’ve read the book, On Death and Dying, (Kubbler-Ross) but it was so long ago that I only remember bits and pieces. I know that anger is one of the five steps in the grieving process and David says I’ve been mean the past couple of days, so I told him this morning that I’m going through an important step in the grieving process and that he should be patient with me.

I’m angry.

Not sure how complete this theory could possibly be, but it feels semi-right. I am pretty pissed off and I am directing it at him. I’ve been writing about how wonderful he’s been since we lost Olivia but I’m not feeling the patience as strongly these past few days and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s getting worn down of his own accord or if I’m wearing him down.

I haven’t been sad and crying because I don’t feel as crumbly and open-wounded as I did at first. I’m not quite as shocked or stricken. I’m guessing that makes me appear to feel better about the whole thing but I don’t. So now on top of whatever this feeling is, I’m misunderstood and it’s making me annoyed. I’m not over it – I can’t even imagine how someone might think I could be. I don’t think he does but he still seems to be somewhat impatient with me more the past few days.

My feelings aren’t easily read from the outside, I believe. Shit, I’m having a hard time reading them from the inside. What should I expect?

All I know is when I think about Olivia I feel a bite of something in my core that makes me want to throw something at someone happy. When I hear that Lily’s 8 month old cousin, Eliot, who’s been struggling to breath since he came into this world just passed a lung functioning test with flying colors, relief is not my first emotion. David and I used to look at what Eliot’s parents were going through, back when our world was still normal and there was still a baby kicking in my belly, we were just sympathetic and could not imagine such stress. We thought about how awful it must be to have to sit in the hospital with our baby, or sit up all night watching him breath through a machine. We took for granted that we would not have to go through any such agony.

Oh what I would do to be going through that agony now.

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