It was the welbutrin what fucked me over. It's not even clear at this point whether I will continue to have bipolarish symptoms, or if that was a reaction to the medication. I thinka little bit o both. So beware side effects, even if you have been on a medication for a while.
The Nurse Practitioner, Nurse Sobedda, who was covering for Distracted Doctor, was remarkably attentive and also had excellent fashion sense. One of those great short haircuts, and a noticeably appropriate affect when she heard my story. Sobedda had chutzpah, too. She said something about being comfortable contradicting what Distracted had said, and having her own opinions. Well, sign me up!
Once she heard my story, she said she was sure that I had been through so much trauma that that was first thing to address. It was validating, and it also really sucked to hear the truth. Couldn't we pretend that 18 months is plenty of time to regain one's footing after the loss of a sibling? Oh, okay, the sudden loss? The violent loss. Ach.
It is all so Joseph Heller ala Catch-22. I would be crazy not to be crazy. And what is it to not be crazy? Is it marching along with life and looking like I'm okay? I can do that. Is it managing to be consistent, or keeping from being depressed? Ball & Chain said that I will need to accept Baby Brudda's death. We were on the phone, and I had one of my I-wanna-reach-out-and smack-you moments. I am not going to accept that someone killed my brother. I refuse, and I consider it an insult. I completely reject it. I need to 'face facts,' or whaddevvah, but one cannot make nice, emotionally or otherwise, when a young man is robbed of a huge portion of his life.
So I say fuck the stages of fucking grief. Fuck the bullshit about everyone experiencing the same thing, and to hell with the idea that someday I will accept my brother's murder. I keep going, and I do a lotta shit, and I hafta know what I know and proceed. But I don't accept violence; I don't accept cruelty. Death is as natural as birth, but not when a person deliberately kills another. That's a fucking crime against humanity.
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You might want to ask yourself: what is your rage doing for you? I don't mean that as a judgment against rage. I think that we need to give our feelings the space they deserve, but we also need to engage with them.
ReplyDeleteI wish you all the best.
Thanks for your note.
ReplyDeleteMy rage did a lot for me recently: it made me stop eating, gave me bad dreams and interrupted sleep, and and made me feel so anxious I was like oil in the pan.
My task is to acknowledge it and deal with it. Avoiding it just ain't doin the trick.
Rage is a totally acceptable reaction to loss and cruelty in this world, especially when cruelty touches us so personally. I feel rageful at times because of cruelty that isn't nearly as close as that cruelty was/is to You. You rage all you need to and forever if need be.
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