Wasted Time

There are many stages of grief and I am in Anger right now.  I'm so damned angry that I can hardly see straight.  The weird thing is that I'm not angry at God or anyone who had anything to do with my brother's death.  I'm angry at entirely different people for a completely illogical reason.  But I am angry nonetheless.

Save our honeymoon and business-related trips, my husband and I have only gone to the exact same  destination for every vacation we have taken in the last seven years.  The way I see it now, that makes several of my vacations that weren't spent with my loved ones.  You know who I mean by "loved ones," right? 

Loved ones are family members who actually demonstrate genuine love and care toward each other.  Family members aren't snakes in the grass, looking to strike whenever they think they have an opportunity.  Family members aren't ugly toward each other and don't spew forth venom from their forked tongues.  The loved ones who I specifically wish that I had spent my vacations with for the last seven years are my family members who have passed away - my Grandmother and my brother. 

But every fucking time we were able to take a vacation, we spent it in the same bullshit destination.  Do I sound angry?  Bitter?  I am angry.  And I sure as heck am bitter.

Things have happened in this last year that essentially freed up our vacations forever.  We were free to go wherever we wanted for vacation.  My husband and I were talking about going to New Jersey this year to see my brother and his family.  Thanks to never-ending bullshit at home, we never made it to New Jersey.  We never spent the time with my brother and his family.  And now my only brother is dead. 

My only brother is dead and we never spent our vacation with him.  I missed out on fun times with family who actually loved and cared about me.  For that, I place the blame solely at the feet of those people who I was always obligated to spend my vacation with these last seven years. 

I am furious that I wasted my valuable vacation time with people who, as it turns out, weren't even worthy of me on any level.  Since they revealed their true nasty selves via their own poison-penned e-mail to me, I can say that they never should have been given my time or effort.  I just have no space in my heart for such cruel and evil people.

Like bandits in the night, they stole my time.  They are the worst kind of black-hearted thieves.  They stole the one thing that is irreplaceable.  My time.  Even worse, they stole my time from people who I can no longer spend my time with. 

I could have spent my time with people who were part of my genuine, kind-hearted, loving family.  You know, people who actually behave like family members should toward each other.  But I was obligated elsewhere with people who, as it turns out, are not the same quality of person and that is chewing me up inside.

I burn with a hot fury toward those thieves who stole my time.  And I am enraged that good and honest people like my Grandmother and my brother are gone.  Why is it that the best kind of people are always gone too soon?

I'd like to say that I will never forgive those people for the valuable time they stole from me, but that's just not who I am.  I know I'll forgive them one day.  But I will never forget their lies and their vile accusations toward people who are blameless and innocent.

I know that anger and bitterness do not suit anybody and they certainly aren't emotions that I want to hold.  I have felt nothing but vomit rising since being cloaked in this fury.  I feel like I am going to explode at any moment, my emotions are leaving me quivering with cold rage as I type this post.

I want to scream, shout, punch, and kick.  I want to claw at myself and physically punish someone, anyone.  I want to run, run so far away from all of this.  I feel like I'm going to crack from this pressure.  Please join my prayer that I am free from this stage of grief soon.  I don't even care if I go back to denial, I just have to release this blinding fury and bitterness from my own heart and get wrapped up in peace.

A Heart Full of Bitterness

I have one. I don't know when it took root. I'm not sure exactly when I realized it was there. I thought it was gone; I really thought I was finished with it. But it came back. I definitely have a heart full of bitterness and I want it gone for good.

I wasn't always this way. Quite the opposite. I was sweet, joyful, loving, and forgiving. I readily let go of past hurts and looked toward a happier future. But something terribly disappointing happened to me about 20-months ago and I just can't seem to move past this hurt.

I'll spare readers the details of what caused this bitterness. Anyone who knows me reasonably well probably knows exactly what I'm talking about. Let's just say that I was hurt in the most spectacularly painful fashion by persons who, one would reasonably expect, should have acted quite differently. I have cried an ocean of tears over this event and it wouldn't be beneficial to rehash it here.

I've tried to be mature and I let these people know how I felt. Their excuses were lame and didn't hold much weight. But I do love them and I believe that I have forgiven them this wrongdoing. So why am I still resentful and why do I seethe with quiet hostility?

I prayed every single night for well over a year to remove the bitterness from my heart. After around 18-months, I publicly declared that my heart was restored. Somehow, in the last two months, I have been seduced back to this ugly state. I've tried to rationalize it. I've tried to ignore it. I've even tried to learn more about it. But nothing has helped make it go away. And I hate it. I hate that I feel this way.

A quick Google search yields a wealth of information about bitterness. It seems that bitterness is emerging as the hot new mental health disorder. That's great, that's just great. I'm actually leading a trend for once in my life and it's for this?!

I've read that suffering from bitterness means many different of things. Among them, I'm holding this emotion on purpose, I'm not a good Christian, my marriage is in trouble, and I'm angry with Republicans - specifically the Bush administration. Hm, I knew I should have finished college to trap some smarts in my noggin. Silly old me just thought it meant that I'm having trouble moving past an extraordinarily painful event. Who knew it had so much hidden meaning?

I don't know how to remove these negative feelings, but I do know that dwelling on them only serves to make them magnify. My life is too good to focus on one terrible event. I know that I have a wonderful life. I have a happy marriage, an awesome husband, and an adorable little boy. My family loves me and I am content. I will not allow my outlook to be poisoned because of other people's thoughtless behavior.

It seems that growth and maturity always comes with tears and frustration. I hope that I look back one day and reflect on how much I've grown from where I am today.