Two sides of the same coin. There are some people who can grieve calmly and with equanimity. Unfortunately, I am not such a person. I lash out. I turn my rage inward. I isolate.
I look for answers when I know there are none. It’s like banging one’s head against a concrete wall. Again and again and again.
I know it sounds melodramatic but there it is.
It’s somewhat comforting to know that I’m not alone and that this is a fairly common experience. Anger is one of the stages of grieving, per Kubler-Ross. But sometimes I can’t get beyond it. Like today. And the past few days.
Megan O’Rourke’s series of articles on the grieving process in Slate has been a great help. Like her, I sometimes feel like biting people’s heads off.
I came across an unusual and really wonderful short story in the New Yorker, “A Tiny Feast” by Chris Adrian which made me cry.