From what I've read, somewhere during the grieving process you experience... Anger! Right on target! Oh yeah! P.O.ed! Hot under the collar! Could spit nails! Can't see straight! Fuming!
I got so damn mad the other day at both of my parents I could hardly concentrate. It started out as a simple conversation with them in my head about some trivial found item that led to a three day rant and rave. I was at my apartment where I did get somewhat vocal, but for the most part, it was in my head.
Over the weekend, I did dish a little to my Sister. Trying to hold it in, I found that I could no longer do so and started right after dinner. We hadn't even left the restaurant yet. She did get off easy. I held most of it in and maintained a level head. The next morning, I laid in bed and just went off again.
To be honest, I don't even remember what the found object was and how it set me off, but I knew that the "Anger" stage had arrived.
My Father had control issues. He'd complain to my Mother about her books, then about her work, then about what she was cooking. Then he'd bitch about what was on TV. Then he bitch about how my Brother never called. Then about my Sister and her kids. Then he'd bitch about my Mother again. And God help you if you had to drive in the car with him! I remember when my Mother stopped sitting in the front seat and made me sit up there. Now I realized why. Numerous times I missed the landscape because I had my eyes closed. First, it was the other drivers going to fast... Oh great! Now it's "someone's driving too slow." He inherited this from his Mother. The "fly-off-the-handle-get-mad-immediately" attitude. Unlike my Mother who held her temper, but once she got there, you got out of her way!
Even from beyond the grave, my Father wanted to control. I found out that he wanted us, meaning we three kids, to get along after he was gone. Well, I'm sorry, but isn't going to happen. My Sister and I will always be close. Nothing will ever come between us. Maybe a treat from Dairy Queen, but we'll survive. If he really wanted us to get along, he and his siblings should have set the example. I remember my Father complaining about my Aunt Carolyn calling and talking about stuff he couldn't have cared less about. And as far as my Uncle Ron goes... HA! I can't even remember the last time they talked on the phone.
My Father was the maddest man I ever knew. He was always mad about something.
And yes, I love both my parents very deeply, but sometimes, they just make me so mad.
How funny... Here I am complaining about someone else's complaining. I must have gotten it from my Father.
CSM
I got so damn mad the other day at both of my parents I could hardly concentrate. It started out as a simple conversation with them in my head about some trivial found item that led to a three day rant and rave. I was at my apartment where I did get somewhat vocal, but for the most part, it was in my head.
Over the weekend, I did dish a little to my Sister. Trying to hold it in, I found that I could no longer do so and started right after dinner. We hadn't even left the restaurant yet. She did get off easy. I held most of it in and maintained a level head. The next morning, I laid in bed and just went off again.
To be honest, I don't even remember what the found object was and how it set me off, but I knew that the "Anger" stage had arrived.
My Father had control issues. He'd complain to my Mother about her books, then about her work, then about what she was cooking. Then he'd bitch about what was on TV. Then he bitch about how my Brother never called. Then about my Sister and her kids. Then he'd bitch about my Mother again. And God help you if you had to drive in the car with him! I remember when my Mother stopped sitting in the front seat and made me sit up there. Now I realized why. Numerous times I missed the landscape because I had my eyes closed. First, it was the other drivers going to fast... Oh great! Now it's "someone's driving too slow." He inherited this from his Mother. The "fly-off-the-handle-get-mad-immediately" attitude. Unlike my Mother who held her temper, but once she got there, you got out of her way!
Even from beyond the grave, my Father wanted to control. I found out that he wanted us, meaning we three kids, to get along after he was gone. Well, I'm sorry, but isn't going to happen. My Sister and I will always be close. Nothing will ever come between us. Maybe a treat from Dairy Queen, but we'll survive. If he really wanted us to get along, he and his siblings should have set the example. I remember my Father complaining about my Aunt Carolyn calling and talking about stuff he couldn't have cared less about. And as far as my Uncle Ron goes... HA! I can't even remember the last time they talked on the phone.
My Father was the maddest man I ever knew. He was always mad about something.
And yes, I love both my parents very deeply, but sometimes, they just make me so mad.
How funny... Here I am complaining about someone else's complaining. I must have gotten it from my Father.
CSM
No comments:
Post a Comment