Anger

2004-04-01 at 7:43 a.m.


When I posted on the 30th, I was scared out of my mind that something horrible had happened or was happening to The Bear. He'd been missing for over twenty-four hours. All I could think of was that I heard somewhere that if they don't find the person in the first twenty-four hours, the possibility of finding them alive was pretty small. (Don't know if that's true, but it's all I could think about.)

I was literally sitting on top of the phone and every time it rang my heart would stop and fall down into the pit of my stomach. The phone rang a lot. Every one at work was calling to check on me and tell me they loved me. Some of the customers would call and say the same thing. And everytime I talked to someone, my heart felt like it was being pulverized a little more. The conversations would make me think again. It made me look at the clock and calculate how long he'd been missing, it made me remember what he'd said to me that last morning, and before I could stop it from happening, it made me think of what might be happening to him and how alone he must be feeling, if he was still alive.

It sounds horrible, but I didn't want anyone to call me and tell me they loved me. I didn't want them to ask me if I was all right because I wasn't and I just couldn't talk about the situation. It was hurting too much. I usually said a few words, disolved into tears and handed the phone to my Mom.

Then the Detective showed up and I kind of went dead. I guess that's what everyone means by "going numb". I just kept looking at the receipt trying to figure out what I was looking at. I'd look at the Detective and watch his mouth move but never hear a word that he said. It was like all the connectors in my brain, to my processing centers, to my emotions, even the ones leading to the nerves in my skin had stopped firing. I just stopped. I couldn't function at any level. I couldn't feel.

I almost wish I had stayed like that. Because, when the feelings came back, it was worse.

My very first cohearant thought was, "He left me," and with that thought came a literal feeling of my heart being run-through with a stake, follwed by a perpetual stream of the most horrendous feelings imaginable. A constant stream of darkness and pain just packing itself into my heart.

My next thought was "Why?" That I couldn't answer, and I spent the whole of the next day trying to. I felt unbelievable waves of betrayal and vulnerablity. All I managed to think was that he had to know what he was putting me and the kids through and he didn't care. That everything he had said and done didn't mean anything to him. He could just leave everything behind, including us, like we weren't even worth a few seconds to write the word "goodbye" on a piece of paper. It hurt profoundly.

I woke up this morning, alone in my bed, remembering what he'd said that last morning about not being able to sleep without me next to him. The pain was still there, but this sudden spark of anger was there as well.

How could he do this? To me, the kids, his family, my family. The more I think about it, the more pissed I'm getting.

I know that this is just a reaction to all the hurt, but it sure feels better than what I was feeling yesterday. It doesn't feel good, just better, not even that much better, but better none the less. I think I can function now, not up to par by any means, but some kind of purposeful momentum.

I got the kids off to school this morning and made a pot of coffee. Now I'm sitting at the computer trying to sort out a little of the chaotic jumble of emotions running through me. I think I might be able to go back to work tomorrow.

________________________________________

I wanted to thank everyone who left me virtual hugs and encouragement and outrage. It is appreciated more than you will ever know.

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