Joan died a week ago today. Brother Dan had that so-called mini stroke this last Thursday. This has been one of the longest weeks of my life.
I have been reading a little in a book that says depression is the result of the inability to grieve. I am not sure that’s what the book is saying exactly; maybe more like one is unable to grieve because one is stuck in grief.
In any case, I thought denial was supposed to come first and anger later on. Of course, the process model of grief is BS. But I seem to have skipped directly to the pissed off stage.
I went to bed and couldn’t get to sleep and was suddenly raging pissed off when I remember that damn lawyer has not gotten back to us yet—after three calls and an email—about what, if anything, we are supposed to do to get the trust filed and any final paper work that might need to be done.
And yesterday I got really pissed when I heard about that massacre at Virginia Tech. 33 students dead, including the killer. I started in ranting about the fucking incompetents that run the country and the fact that it is possible to buy automatic and semi-automatic weapons in this fucking barbaric country, and so on and so forth till I wore myself out.
The students were sort of stunned—not by me—but the event; some had heard about it and others had not, and they were whispering to each other, and one student said, because I had the web up, go to U-Tube for some action footage, and I said I didn’t want to look at any pictures of the fucking shooting or of students jumping out of windows for fear of their lives.
The parents and friends of those poor students are going to have one damn long week too, I expect.