A nice moment to begin this post with: I’m sitting here with my 19-month-old son. He is beginning to put recognizable words and phrases together. (and singing, which is such a joy to hear) Right now he is trying to read a book about Passover – upside down. So adorable. Anyway, I can’t believe I’ve been away from the blog for so long. It seems time has gotten away from me again. I think it’s time to update you on the emotional struggle. (get ready)

The worst, and most often appearing, emotion has been anger. I am angry with God. That’s a dangerous thing, you know. How dare I question His reasoning for the way things are? But I do. I hate that he took our son away. I hate how it has affected my life and the way I relate to other people. I hate the exhaustion it causes me from having to “put on my face” every time I leave my bedroom, let alone the house.

Example (and I’m sorry if this hurts someone’s feelings as that is not my intent but I need to vent and this is my blog): At work last week one of my co-workers had to put their dog to sleep. Because I work with some of the most caring people I have ever met, they decided they would like to take up a collection to donate to a dog rescue in memory of our co-worker’s pet. While my co-worker was telling me about it I said “that’s very sweet.” After explaining that they would be waiting a week to tell her so she could have a chance to recover a little bit I was told “You understand, right?!” I was so stunned that all I could do was stare. Then I went to the bathroom to cry. I understand that it is a difficult thing to deal with – but how dare you compare that with my pain?! It was a dog. A DOG! Not a human being, bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. It does not even come close. I am fairly certain that this person did not realize what they had just said to me, or at least I hope not. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

That is why I am so exhausted at the end of the day… I have to pretend that I’m fine, that I care, that comments like that don’t bother me. And that leaves nothing for my family but an angry, almost bitter mommy coming home at night. My kids deserve better – it’s not fair to them. I finally got the guts to tell my immediate family and church that I have this blog (though I neglected to give the address so I’m not sure how they’ll find me) and that I am struggling with anger. I asked them to ask my husband if I’m getting out of control as he would (hopefully) be more honest about it than I. But short of someone moving in I don’t know how to get help from them. This whole thing sucks.

Last night I got upset and went to my room. I cried for about an hour – and only that short because I forced myself to stop. Sometimes it was so bad I wanted to scream – like from the depths of my soul scream – so loud that the universe would shake from the sound. I was shaking and tense and felt like there was a black hole in the middle of me. (I used to wonder why mourners in the Bible would tear their clothes, now I know it was to keep from hitting someone or breaking something.) I have figured out that I can only let so much out at a time because otherwise it may just kill me. I have never felt emotions this strongly before. Anger, deep sorrow, hatred, guilt, resentment, jealousy… it’s ugly and painful. I can’t even find the right words to describe the intensity of it. I just keep telling myself to take this one day at a time. The thing is, the days seem to get longer all the time.