Anger has always been an emotion that I tend to shrug off. I don’t like how I feel when I am angry and I avoid admitting I am angry at all costs. It’s like avoiding going to the store until you absolutely have to, except I let the toilet paper run out  because I never want to fuel even my deepest fears, in this case, my anger.

Lately as I stew at work (like today on my lunch break) or stew in that few minutes before sleep or that 7 minutes from the shower to the other bathroom to do my hair and make up, the stewing has gone from normal pleasant things to creeping into reflecting dreams that I suddenly recall–only they are replays of emotion and fear. The dreams are really happening — I am not completely crazy– but I do think they are occurring because I have suppressed my anger and rage or maybe in general my emotion.

Today, I woke up after a terrible night of “dreams” angry at the world. I am angry because of missing my disappointment(s). My birthday is approaching and I should be celebrating my 4th year of marriage, only I was married and divorced so quickly we barely celebrated anything. Then I face my most recent and I should be happy. I should be excited to start my new life with a man who I know is imperfect but that I was (keyword) ready to give our life a plentiful start. One with deep passion and ever growing–dedication to each other and grace in our weak moments. Granted, both of those things ended. And for the very same reason. They were dreamt up lies of men promising to want something they truly didn’t  and through deception they drug me through the mud. Not only me but also Lucy.

I struggle to understand why TODAY of all days, I finally face the anger. I guess it doesn’t really matter “when” but the true value is when we do, that we do it and we move on (at least until the next wave). Move on but not sweep under the rug. I am tired of being tired. Tired of running from reality. Tired of trying and coming up dry.

So today as I got ready. I listened to my sermon about reaping the harvest. And not only reaping the harvest but also sowing so that we can reap. Understanding that our messes might not be what we have planted but they are what God has intended for us.

Please excuse me while I try to grasp my anger. And my harvest. Because I can’t help but think “what on Earth did I plant?”, this cannot be Gods plan for me. Then the sermon goes on to say that we are responsible for touching lives that we didn’t even know we were supposed to touch. That maybe our trials are not meant for us but they are meant for us to work through so that we can deliver a message to someone else. Maybe the pain is so real because we will need it to let God work through us instead of for us. Because he has a plan if we would just let go and let God. That’s right, let go and let God.

That didn’t erase my anger. That didn’t make my disappointment go away. And it certainly did not stop me from having a, meh, day. But what it did do. Was fuel thought for tomorrow when I can be a better me. Today I am choosing me and my feelings. I am going to be angry and I am not going to let it escape me or be pushed away. I am angry because people who I loved dearly, and wanted everything for, gave me the shitty short end of the stick. While, I do deserve better it isn’t up to me to decide when. I gave what I had and brought what I could–in the end it wasn’t me that fell short. But why is that so hard to swallow?  Why do I feel like I am playing the blame game?  I guess I just want to know “why”, why they thought it was ok, why they would do it to begin with, and why they thought so little of me that they could do it? Was it their intention? Were they malicious and just looking for a free careless ride? Carefree because my “wife” will do it. Maybe they lied but clearly I wasn’t worthy–in their eyes. What’s wrong with me?

I think I might also be angry because I can’t give my child what I think she deserves–when the reality is she has it but in a different way. Angry because I LOVE going home to an empty house and LOVE filling it up. Angry because I can be so accepting of change. “this is what it is” and do my best to move on. But what isn’t still lingers and hangs me up. there for. I. Wake.Up.Angry




Revolving Door. I’m never really gone.

Every once in awhile one of my first true loves as an adult, a young one, but adult non-the-less comes around. Last year he brought us dinner and suddenly was attempting to make out with me. Apparently his relationship had gone south and he thought I might be the answer. I wasn’t the answer way back when, and I am still not the answer.  I think ultimately, he knows that no matter what happens or where life takes us, that when he walks in the door I see him first the first time all over again. I am honest about it, not to fuel anything between us because we could not need anymore different in our people, maybe once upon a time I would have tried to change me but I hung that up (partly through him *I know I deserve better*).  He was my wind and my sea, I was completely enamored by him and willing to love him unconditionally with all of who I was. However, me loving him and him not loving me. I don’t know if thats a condition or not but either way it wasn’t fair to either of us and that is how we ended.

Fast forward to two weeks ago. Guess who out of now where shows up? Mind you he has not spoken to me much since last year because I called him out deserving someone better for himself and that he wasn’t really in the midst of wanting to cheat to get out but rather he was looking for comfort that he wasn’t willing to give his girlfriend of three years. I told him to marry her and stop playing games–thats what she wants–he didn’t like much of anything I had to say and he disappeared. BAM! “Can we get lunch?”. So we get lunch, we meet another time on my lunch break to talk (really just BSing), I had his place of business do some work for my office so we worked together on  a project, cruised costco one night with Lucy, he was here, but as soon as I started asking questions like “Do you have cancer?” and “Where is your girlfriend, what is going on?”, he split. He can be such a mystery.

I give that back story to say, or ask rather, at what point in our lives is being a revolving friend ok? I have slim to no one in my corner right now. I have axed and axed and axed because I am done being used and abused. Being “alone” is lonely but no where near as lonely as needing a friend, having a friend, and my need not being important like theirs is every time to me. I find these broken people that I can help, the ones who need sitters, who need money, who need someone to help plan a great party, to help them grow into themselves and someone to feed thinkings off of…I am very much that person to many. BUT I need that person for me and I can’t be that person for some right now. They just keep coming back. Keep sucking me dry, and I. Do. Not. Want. To. Be. An. Abused. Revolving door.