Maybe I *am* mad

Months ago, my therapist asked if I was angry. Anger hasn't been one of my overwhelming emotions during these past (almost) 11 months. But I'm starting to realize I do have some anger in there.

I'm absolutely not mad at Dad. He was ill - and looking back at the 42 years we spent together, I see that more and more. All those times I thought he was just being a poop about stuff - not wanting to participate, getting angry about dumb stuff, acting like a doofus - that was his illness.

 

But now I'm starting to admit that I am angry that he worked so very hard to overcome these struggles and wasn't healed. He sought counseling and medication and prayer and meditation and exercise - all the things you're supposed to do. And it didn't work. He still, in whatever was going through his head in those moments, ended his life.

Am I mad at God? Maybe. I have good understanding of free will and all that. But he still could have healed my dad. Why do some people receive healing and some don't?? I guess that's the age-old question asked by everyone dealing with suffering.

I'm mad that my life has been disrupted to the point that I'm barely hanging on. I'm mad that I have to triage my daily tasks just to get through. I'm mad that I don't have the time or energy to enjoy the holidays like I want to. I'm mad that I'm not happy like I used to be. I'm mad that Mom has to move. I'm mad that she has to deal with all these things (moving, remodeling, house repairs) on her own. I'm mad that my mom lost her life partner.

I'm mad that my sister is struggling and is just as wiped out as me. I'm mad that Brad has to spend all his energy taking care of me. I'm mad that when people ask how I am, I have to decide whether to tell the truth or just say I'm fine.

I'm mad that my grandparents weren't better parents to my dad. I'm mad that my dad felt so desperate to have a relationship with his father that he basically traded his life for Grandpa's in the end. I'm mad that I have to live the rest of my life without my dad. I'm mad that I wasn't a better daughter. I'm mad that I wasn't more compassionate to his struggles.

I think the list could go on and on. That's all for now. No neat-and-tidy bow - just my feelings.