Angry? Yeh, but at what? or who!

My anger in grief was at a time when there was such confusion, overwhelm of emotions. Yet what was I angry at? The Doctor that Gavin saw 10 days before he died that perhaps didnt try hard enough, wasnt experienced enough to look beyond the tick box of triage. The system in hospitals for having a tick box exercise, that perhaps over smoothes the symptoms, reduces everything to statistical probabilities, to speed things up. Humans arent one size! We have aberations and outliers. Then there’s the anger at Gavin as he didn’t go back to the Doctors. Why didn’t he take better care of himself ? Following the trail of emails and texts on his phone, as part of the investigation that had to be done at the hospital, we could see that he did his best. As for the hospital the NHS system failed, the Doctor did what he thought was right, given what he knew at that time. He has to live with and hopefully learn from that. Then theres anger at what ever belief system is held. Be that a god, gods or simply a power out there that decides fates. For me it was a generalising of why did he have to be taken now. Leaving us, here, in pain and sorrow. To deal with all the details and feelings that come with being a parent suddenly losing a child, no matter how old they are. The anger that perversly turns to that power and says why is this happening to me, to us, the family left behind.

An interesting phrase ‘left behind’ is it because we innately believe that they have moved forward, gone onward to a different phase of being, and we are still here in our bodied state.

Anger then turned onto myself, why didn’t I do more to help him! He was a grown man, that allowing, over his growing up years to make his own choices. Live his own life. I couldn’t frog march him to the Doctors, yet there’s always the feeling I should have done more. That is when guilt comes to visit.

I don’t ‘do’ anger, that is, I have difficulty expressing anger. I tend to swallow the feeling and stuff it down. I see now that it is my conditioning from experiencing others’ anger, whether directed at me, as a child, or simply seeing its effect on the one who is angry. My mother looked ugly and scary when she was angry, and that was often directed at me, a child. Anger was not a good experience as I only ever saw its unhealthy expression from others. A harming that was taken deeply to heart. I am aware that within me, there is still anger from many past circumstances that will surface to be expressed in some way.

So for me, these focal points of anger though right-fully felt and acknowledged, were not sustained, perhaps the overwhelming sadness, which is emotionally strength sapping allowed them to diminish in magnitude. To become accepted or perhaps simply put away, with little expression required on my part, then. The opening up to surrendering to my innate ‘not knowing why but doing it anyway’ of being in grief and all that entails. I do feel that anger does need expressing in a healthy way and that if its not discerningly done in the moment it will be revisited.

I have no doubt that for many the anger becomes fuel for change or becomes a defining emotion to be held. That may have both positives and negatives attached. For my husband it has coloured his perception of his life, become a force to raise funds for Thrombosis UK, a charity that helps educate the medical professions and others about how DVT’s and thrombosis can affect 1 in 1000 people no matter their age or fitness. Yet that too is now exhausted. Anger is exhausting when sustained over periods of time and not brought to balance. Its good to feel angry, yet it is to be expressed in a healthy way, not with harm or violence, as that, potentially, not only harms others but yourself too. To not express it harms our inner self too, in ways that may not be seen, yet felt now and then for no apparent reasoning, simply asking to be felt, heard, acknowledged and eventually accepted.