The Five Stages

I can't remember all five stages of grief. But I can say that in the past few weeks (and mostly the past few days), I have been made very familiar with two of them: Anger and Acceptance.

I can tell I've worked on myself enough, thought enough, journaled enough to get to the phase of acceptance. This feeling, this sense of accomplishment is brief, fleeting, and quickly replaced again by anger. It's like being one of those amusement park rides where you look out, the scenery seems to steady itself, and then suddenly you are whipped around again by the ride. That whipping feeling is the anger that rises up in me.

I know that anger is something that I need to work on, not so much because I am always yelling and expressing it, but because I am not. I push so much of it down that it comes out in strange, often unhealthy ways. I have found myself screaming at cars when I am driving (although I do that less now, perhaps because I take the bus more often than not).

Where I find myself in places of anger now is in my thoughts. Perhaps it is not really such a bad thing to wish pain on someone who has inflicted pain on me, but I cringe when I think of the angry thoughts I have had lately about Tom. I will say, though, that yelling in the empty house and hammering away at my food with a meat softener (when required for the recipe) has recently helped. I imagine in retrospect these moments will appear quite ludicrous.

Right now, I feel myself getting back to acceptance. The scenery looks a bit more serene for now.