I know this might upset some people and for that I apologize, but it has to come out. The language here might not be for the faint of heart. This will likely be a long, drawn out, rambling diatribe, but as I don’t have a lot of blog viewers I’m fine with that.
And if you’re not aware, I’ve recently lost my baby boy, Remi, my big fuzzy boy, my mostly perfect ‘little’ standard poodle who was like a big teddy bear. This still hurts a LOT. If you find that to be a silly or ridiculous thing for a person to still be agonizing over weeks later, just delete this link (and me off your Facebook friends if that’s how you came to this) and be done with me. My animals ARE my kids (and they are better behaved than most people’s kids, honestly), and that’s the way it is.
I’m angry. Very, very angry.
I’m angry that we didn’t know something was wrong with Remi before it was ‘too late’. I’m angry with him for not letting us know he wasn’t feeling well. I’m angry at him for not being a stronger dog like Bon that would have been likely able to withstand a lot of pain annoyance and surgery. I’m angry that I was left without the one dog that doesn’t drive me absolutely batshit insane all the time, the one that behaved and didn’t act like a nuisance.
I’m angry that I feel dumb for being so torn up about “just a dog” even though I know he (and the rest) are not “just animals”.
I’m angry at Granny who passed away in 2002 for likely knowing something was wrong with her and not letting anyone know. I’m angry that she just left me and didn’t get to come to our wedding or be there to pick on me for silly things. I’m angry she didn’t get to see us purchase a home. I’m angry that I see people at work her age that make me think of the fact that I don’t have her anymore. I’m angry I hadn’t seen her since the previous year because I lived so far away. I’m angry I didn’t send her the Elvis playing cards I’d bought for her before she passed away.
I’m angry at Uncle Bill for KNOWING something was wrong with him and never letting me know, for never letting me see him one more time where he wasn’t on his death bed, unresponsive. I’m angry I never really got to say goodbye or get to have a hug from him. I’m angry at him for not actually having been my father, even knowing he wouldn’t have been a perfect one. I’m angry I don’t really have anything to remember him by.
I’m angry at Phantom for having been the second important death in my life that I wasn’t prepared for and that gave me no warning or ability to do anything. I’m angry at myself for not seeing something that I feel like I should have noticed (even though there wasn’t anything to notice) until the night before she died. I’m angry she didn’t spend more time with us and for making Remi mourn her for months after she was gone.
I’m angry at the terms “passed away” or “put down” or “put to sleep”.
I’m angry with an ex-“friend” who felt it was ok to call me out in “public” for being rude to him, although it was in response to him being condescending with me. I’m angry that he never said one thing to me that he was upset until he blind sided me with how disrespectful I was to him to EVERYONE else on my website. I’m angry that he got support for this and I got nothing at the time. I’m angry at the words he said to me later when I told him how I felt privately and how I should “have a nice life”.
I’m angry that I have signed cards and given at work for stuff for coworkers, but when something happens to me I get a few hugs, one card from a very dear and loved coworker and some uncomfortable sorrys and that’s it. I’m angry that things have gotten better and that I’ve been more friendly and chatty with folks but I still feel like an outsider in a place where half the people I work with have been there less time than I have.
I’m angry at people that are two sided, that say one thing to me and then something else entirely to someone else.
I’m angry at people who talk about their pets who get to live to be 16 and 18 and older, and I don’t. I’m angry that I feel like I’m doing something wrong and not caring for them well enough.
I’m angry that when I feel angry I can’t actually BE angry, I have to cry like a fucking blubbering idiot and I can’t make myself understood or actually relieve any of my stress.
I’m just angry… and I just don’t know what to do about it….