I thrive on the anger..

These stages of grief are the hardest, but strangely, the one I have come to somewhat enjoy is the anger. The anger is the only time I feel motivated and driven. It’s the only time I don’t want to be curled up in a ball crying, sleeping, or doom scrolling and letting the dishes pile up. It’s one of the only times I don’t feel numb and emotionless. The time where I am adamant, confident, and speak my mind. When I want to get shit done, make my boundaries clear, and I’ll do anything to do it. I feel so fucking powerful when I’m angry.

But it’s also the time I can call you any name in the book with no regrets. The time I can say things I could never imagine saying. The time I focus on all the bad in my life, and get even angrier. The time I make irrational decisions. The time I’m more likely to drink. And then, after the anger, comes the low that follows. I wish I could be angry all the time.

I hate that I have become this person unwillingly. I hate that you caused me this pain and trauma. I hate that despite how good this anger can feel, it’s just masking the brokenness inside of me.