It took me a while. But I figured it out. After a litany of "Fuck this, fuck that, why do always have the worst timing when buying or selling a house, and why is my computer so slow, and why when I think I'm so organized, can't I find the piece of paper I'm looking for, and why do I have so much stuff, and why are cat litter and cat food so expensive," and...whine, whine, whine until I realized that I don't really hate the potential buyer of my house, or her real estate agent, or Apple Computer, or my cat, or the whole wide world.
What I have here, I think, is a bit of leftover anger at Mr. Ex--who was essentially responsible for the first of my two moves in this past five years. There was that lovely Sunday afternoon conversation in July of 2007. The "our marriage is over--I'm in love with someone else and we're getting married--and we'd like raise our new family in this house" conversation. Because she'd already slept in my house--probably in my bed--I was pretty damn fine with leaving it all behind since I figured I'd end up in prison if I burned the place to the ground. But yeah, moving is a lot of work, and I think I was wallowing in a little resentment last night. And okay, I'm wallowing now too. But I think I'm almost done. Yeah. Thanks, blogosphere, for letting me disburse that anger. Whew.
And who knows, maybe there'll be a little more. I've told Mr. Residual Anger to pack his bags, but he's standing there with his hands on his hips staring me down.
photo credit: cityofheroes.wikia.com
5 comments:
Residual Anger does have a way of hanging out for far longer than we think may be absolutely necessary.
Even though I have a terrific relationship with my ex-husband and it's been a million years since we split up, there is still a little bit of it in my soul. I admit it.
Me too and it makes me angry that it can still make me angry, because it is not a state that I enjoy. I am still in the midst of a lot of things, and I have tried, really tried not to let it get to me, but I do have those days, when the great injustice, and the piles of lies topple on me without warning. I think progress is shaking it off more easily, and not letting it ferment. And it seems to me like you just did that.
Grief is like that. You think it's gone and then there it is again. It never really goes away I don't think, just softens and becomes a part of you. You don't notice it's there until something triggers it and then it flares up again. Kind of like herpes:)
I am wallowing in grief today. It's Miss Katie's birthday, her father is being a royal, fucking pain and I'm too dizzy to go see her right now. Not to mention I'm not liking the whole wheelchair thing.
I just printed out a sixty-page article titled "Anger." I'll let you know what it says.
Oh so difficult! My husband moved us across country the 4 days later told me he was divorcing me but that he wanted me to pretend that we were still together and to not move back to our home state (my sons and i)
The move back was easy (i fled after he choked me) but it has taken seven months for him to return PART of our things. His mistress and their three children live in a home in MO. I guess his life is perfect ad he just doesnt want to think about "his dark-sad past" so he has decided that he is not going to make any effort on going through with te divorce, afterall his mistress and him already live togeher, and her children already call him daddy, so win win for everyone right?
yes even after we "get over it" it is just around the corner waiting for us.
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