Wild Rage...

...almost consumed me.

Photo by Benjamin Lizardo on Unsplash

When my husband died suddenly from a heart attack, I was filled with such deep rage against him.

How could he abandon me and his son like this? I was at the stage of my grief for my son Emile, who died by suicide, where I thought I could breathe again.

There was light at the end of that dark tunnel. Then my husband died and left me all alone. Why did he not take care of his health? He had a young son who needed a father. He abandoned us.

I told people he was inconsiderate for dying, and they thought I was joking, but I was dead serious. He didn’t ask for permission. Grief makes your mind think crazy thoughts.

My heart was broken, but I chose anger. I wasn’t going to cry about him. He didn’t deserve my tears. He deserved the rage, burning like wildfire.

My life spun out of control, and I was lost. I would sit on the roof of the house, in the middle of the night. Holding my legs tight against my body, trying to stop myself from drifting away into nothingness.

My anger kept me going. I had conversations with myself and him. I felt so insane that, if he magically came back to life at that moment, I would have killed him with my bare hands.

There were days I even shocked myself with the murderous thoughts. But, god knows, I felt helpless. I hated him with my whole heart.

Why did he do this to me? I now know these were irrational thoughts and part of the grieving. At the time, it made perfect sense to me.

With time, I calmed down. I sold our house and moved to a completely different location.

I let go of the resentment and rage. I started meditating and found peace in my soul.

Namaste