The thief returns
Just as last year and the year before, the thief returned. My being is heavy with grief and my heart feels hollowed out. This time I was able to recognize it for what it is, so Sunday I took a walk through town and talked to God in attempt to starve off the inevitable depression and grief that leads up to the 3rd anniversary, March 28, the day that my Mokey passed away and the day I finally decided to orphan myself from the last sociopath called "mom". I muttered that I plan to call her on the 28th and ask if she knew the significance of the day to me, I just want to throw it in her face. But what would it actually accomplish? Not any genuine remorse on her part, if anything she would feed off of my grief and anger as she never hesitated to voice her fantasies that her children will be failures and condemned to a life of loneliness and hated by everybody. It was classic projection as that was her fate, not mine nor my sister's. For now I decided not to contact her on that date or any date. Afterwards I felt more a peace and a bit better, but I know there will be ambushes of rage for the next 15 days as the subconscious swirl in the maelstrom of shock, sadness, and grief that is still happening in all its rawness. The subconsciousness has no filter and no sense of time, what happened to us yesterday, a year ago, twenty years ago is still happening.
There is a quote from Maya Angelou, "Bitterness is like a cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns all clean." And anger is a sign that we have some recovery work to do, to resolve these deep childhood wounds that our parents inflicted on us, through no fault of our own. I used to feel bad I was angry, now I try to welcome the rage to propels me to seek a better life for myself and use its energy to help keep me alive and motivates me to fight the good fight.