The Second Stage of Grief: ANGER

I have suffered family loss before. I have grieved before. But those losses were different, my relationships with those people did not hold a prominent place in my life; the memories, if any, are fragmented and faded to the point where they could be memories or they could be dreams. I'm not really sure. That's one of the reasons why this time is different. My grandmother helped raise me.

I also seem to be going through the five stages before I have actually lost anything (which I am assuming is no rarity). I live with her and so see her everyday. With the reality of the situation staring you in the face it's hard to deny, but I did try. It's safe to say that I have now moved past that stage.

Which brings me to the third reason why this time it's different (aside from the obvious). I've never gotten angry before. This is a stage that I have always skipped and maybe it has something to do with the fact that I wasn't as close to the others that I have lost, but I have eluded anger in moments like this...until now. Now it seems as though anger was waiting for me to turn my back so it could sink its teeth into my neck, because last night, I got angry.

I hadn't been able to get my grandmother out of the house for almost a week, which wouldn't be so bad if that didn't also mean that I wasn't leaving the house (she can't be left alone). I was going stir crazy and she is completely fine with it. At about 6 o'clock my grandmother had showered and finally gotten dressed so I suggested that we go out to dinner, she didn't want to. I told her that was fine. I lied. And then all the pieces started to fall together. I wasn't fine. I wasn't fine because I wanted to go and she wasn't going to let me. I wasn't fine because she didn't seem to understand that because she was staying home all the time that means so am I. I wasn't fine because I thought she was being selfish, but I couldn't tell her that. I wasn't fine because it's not her fault she is sick, nor is she to blame for the part where I willingly moved, and yet I was still angry with her. In a matter of minutes I realized just how awful of a person I can be.

So now I am cozying up with anger, not by choice, but I haven't figured out how to get rid of it yet. And everything that I have read tells me to just let the stages of grief run their course, (to which I say in my most sarcastic tone) AWESOME!