Somewhere in the middle of all the energy fighting to keep my kids safe, to get them the help and resources they need, somewhere in all of the living and surviving, I have had zero time to grieve.
I find lots of time to be angry, to shout in frustration at my kids, to let bitterness well up so much that I feel I'm being crushed under it's weight.
But sadness? Who has time for that? That's where the anger keeps me safe. Or, so I think. I think being angry will keep me safe. Safe from the hurt. Safe from the lost feeling. Safe from being frozen with inaction. Safe from the unknown.
All it really does is drive a wedge even further between my trauma and the trauma my kids have suffered. It steals my joy. Anger takes away from MOVING ON.
I can't say I know what to do with it. I have come to recognize many of the things that trigger my anger; fear, exhaustion, feelings of helplessness, financial stresses ... sadness.
Added to that fact that we experience ongoing trauma due to visitation and transition issues, it feels like the anger is always there. Festering. Waiting to rear it's head and EXPLODE.
My fear is it's too much. That no one can or will stay with us through all this difficulty. It's big. So big. Overwhelming ...
Slowly, the anger turns to tears. The sadness threatens to crush me. It's as if I can't breath. I'm drowning ... drowning in sorrow ...
