Sunday, April 2, 2017

Idk what this is about besides being angry

The Universe laughed at me the other day going to visit Lisa. I took a different way than usual and passed where Frank works. I could see it from the highway. Like a train slamming into my brain, I realized that Frank and Steve work practically next to each other.

The anger was tangible. Thinking the Universe is being a dick was real. But that's literally the story of my life.

Of course I've been angry ever since. Not constantly, but far more often than has become the norm. Lisa said it's normal when I talked to her about it. I went from a grief fueled, occasionally angry, hatred to just fill blown pissed the fuck off kind of hatred.

Everything I think about in regards to Steve makes me furious and hurt all over again. Like I've been stabbed and all I can think is to rip out what feels like a dagger. Then stab him with it and watch him bleed out.

...I never said I wasn't crazy. My therapist hates that word but it's apt. Sanity is not on my side but PTSD will do that. I can see, taste, feel everything like it's still occurring.

No wonder I'm so angry. Not just at him. At all the people who hurt me in ways I'll never recover from. Because I will always remember and be mentally hounded.

I don't want to be angry to the point where it physically hurts. However, it's better than grief and sadness. Those are devastating for my mental health. Anger is something else entirely. Unhealthy yes, but it doesn't send me spiraling. Anger is more prominent.

Don't get me wrong. The sadness, grief, pain, and yes even love (because I don't know how not to love him), are still there. Buried underneath all that anger, they exist.

I hate that I'll never be able to forget about him. The best I can hope for is for some of the pleasant memories to dim. My mind has a harder time holding onto those. You may wonder why that's the best I can hope for. Sounds backwards.

If all I remember is the bad, I avoid that like the plague. Memories with highly conflicting emotions make the bad ones worse. There's a comparison.

And now I'm crying because that's such a terrible way to have to live to be near sanity.

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