Angry

I tried.

I really tried.

I had every intention of going into the office after lunch, but I just couldn't do it. If you all will recall from my "101 Things About Me Post (see #51)." I do some of my best thinking in the shower or while brushing my teeth. As I was getting ready to go out, I started to think about my dad again. And in the middle of my bathroom routine, I wept. Out of the blue it hit me again and I just sat down and sobbed huge sobs.

My eyes are starting to hurt from wiping away all the tears from the last few days.

*sigh*

This time I was just angry.

Angry at HIM for leaving me like he did.

Angry at him for being the cause of so many moments of anguish over the years. Yeah, like it was his fault??

Angry that I was robbed of my childhood.

Angry that so much of his oral family history is gone.

Angry that he never talked about his childhood.

Angry that he never talked about his side of the family. I never knew his side of the family at all, and I don't even know anything about his parents.

Angry that his life experiences and wisdom and outlook will never be known to me.

Angry that my mom made life he**for him. Arranged marriages are complicated in that way. That's another post for another day. *sigh*.

Angry that this loss, this hole in my heart, this sadness in my spirit will never, ever go away.

Angry that grief is a such a lonely experience.

Angry that I'm such a sensitive, emotional person.

Angry that every little thing makes me cry (whether or not we're talking about my dad).

Angry that I'm forgetting all the details - his voice, his smile, his handwriting, his habits, his routine, his smell, even the way he'd say my name with that southern twang. He was from Mississippi, afterall.

Angry that no one in my family ever talks about him anymore.

Angry that when I ask my mom to share things about her life with my dad, that she won't do it.

Angry that my mom is so selfish and insensitive to my need to hear these things.

Angry that my mom has been so disrespectful to my dad's memory since he died.

Angry that I just want and need so desperately to hear him say 'I love you, I'm proud of you'.

Angry that there's an infinite amount of tears my body is producing.

Angry that my brothers and sisters don't talk about him.

Angry that as capable and independent and self-sufficient as I am, there's always going to be that little girl who just wants a hug from her daddy.

Angry that this time around the grief is lasting longer than usual, and the depth of the sorrow is more painful than usual.

Angry at myself for some of things I just didn't 'get' while he was sick.

Angry for being a horrible teen during that time.

Angry that I can't get any work done.

Angry that so many work-related things are piling up and being escalated because of my lack of motivation and I just want to tell everyone to f**k off.

Angry that I CAN'T tell everyone to f**k off.

Angry that so many people around me have their priorities out of whack.

Angry that I'm all alone and wish I had a man in my life to take care of me and support me through this (even though I know that's not a realistic expectation). I just want a soft place to fall, a shoulder to cry on, a loving embrace, someone who will love me and nurture me through this, someone to affirm how much my dad loved me and who will tell me that I'll be ok.

Angry that I even want a man in my life.

Angry that I miss him SO much.

Angry that I've not celebrated father's days in years. No picking out the perfect card, no planning a surprise brunch, no shopping for a cool gift.

Angry that so many acquaintances are inviting me to lunch and outings and get-togethers, and I just want to scream because I could care less about a house party or what's for lunch.

Angry that no one gets me.

Angry that what I want out of life seems so elusive.

Angry that just when I think the cloud of grief is lifting, another memory or thought blindsides me and I am back to uncontrollable sobs.

Angry that I'm the spitting image of him. Why did everyone else in my family end up looking like my mom??

Angry that everytime I meet someone new there's always that awkward moment when they ask what my parents do for a living.

Angry that even your comments on my blog are making me cry hysterically. You all know what I mean, 'tho. You guys are a blessing to me, thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate it, really I do!

Angry that blogger was down this afternoon that I couldn't post this earlier.

Angry for being so angry.

Angry for loving him so much.

Man, do I miss him.

Man, this hurts.

I'd do anything to just have one more moment with him, for ME to tell HIM how much I love him and appreciated him, for me to hear his voice, to feel his embrace, to see his smile, to share a father-daughter moment, to just BE with him.

I'm just f'ing pissed and I want these feelings to go away.