Oh, I do understand. I didn't think you were going to start shouting it out with your parents. But I get that some people find that helpful.

It seems like residual anger about my marriage to Rob has cropped up lately, and the realization that some parts of the relationship were emotionally abusive, which has thrown me for a loop. I'll never get to ask him why though. It complicates my memories of him, and of us.

Maria, I remember how difficult your relationship with Rob was at the time he died. You were actively thinking that the marriage wasn't working. There was so much unresolved there at the time.

Tep, I've had that different memories experience with my sister. I think it's endemic to most siblings in a way because everybody is busy creating their own narratives so we selectively edit the memories which support our narrative-in-progress.

But recently when taking the long drive home from dropping Matilda off at camp, I discovered that EM and I had *very* different memories of what it was like to parent young Emmett. In retrospect, I wonder if all the tantrums I had to deal with from him were coming from his anger/upset about our separation.

Like Laura, I had to come to a point during my divorce where I had to realize that while I had every reason to mad at EM, if I continued to be that furious with her it was going to poison my life. So I let it go.

That noted, I didn't have any trouble feeling angry and betrayed by her. The rage was just so black and warping though that it would have made me permanently bitter. I've seen it in more than a few people who never let go of a divorce.

The rage was just so black and warping though that it would have made me permanently bitter.

This is what mean about how being a rageball isn't a good idea long-term.

I see it happen too often. Also, why therapy is awesome.

I've never been able to seriously tap into my anger towards my parents in therapy. I know it's there, right below the surface, but I just can't get at it.

When my dad wasn't yelling at me, he was mostly ignoring me, and my mom was mostly just ignoring me. So it isn't just that I was never really allowed to be angry at my parents, it's also because I so very much craved (and still crave) their approval and validation. I can't get angry at my parents because I want them to love me.

And on top of that, there's the fact that I tended to take dad's screaming fits at me as a sign that he did love me, because, hey, even negative attention is better than no attention at all.

The rage was just so black and warping though that it would have made me permanently bitter.

This is what mean about how being a rageball isn't a good idea long-term.

Aw, dang it.

I can't get angry at my parents because I want them to love me.

Hey, we talked about this in therapy just a little bit ago. I don't have an answer, other than, for me, I'm recognizing that feeling the Hulk raaaaage now doesn't make them love me when I was 12. So fuck them.

Man, I am so bad at recognizing when I am angry. . .

but I am having a much better Thursday than I was a week ago when I called my friend Kathy in tears which were no doubt brought on by not having my citalopram for more than a week.

I have since:

found a Patient Assistant program through which I was able to get my prescription for free and picked up my meds.

had my Community Action rep (social worker) edit my resume and make it a much more functional document.

dropped off my rental assistance application at Hope Haven

and while there picked up a couple loaves of delicious bread and some very good cereal.

And discovered that randomly my SNAP allowance for July was almost $8.00 more than usual. (I am pretty sure I used my allowance up in June s0 . .. who knows what is going on.)

So, I am still a little weepy but I'm better than I was a week ago. I just spent a nice couple of hours with my friend Kathy after a non-weepy phone call picking up meds and groceries and am now watching the Tour de France going through some particularly gorgeous French countryside.

That's all really good news, sumi!

Now to find a new job with my snazzy new resume!

When I was processing the anger at my parents during therapy, I had some really overwhelming dreams.

I had recurring dreams of setting fire to and walking away from the house we lived in when my mom was diagnosed with leukemia and went into the hospital for 6 months. When I told this to my therapist, she laughed and said, "Do I need to unpack that for you?"

He tapped into my logical side and it helped.

I am so not a creature of logic. The most helpful thing my therapist helped me with is that whenever the child!Jilli that lives in the back of my head freaks out, I need to remind myself that she doesn't have to deal with it - that's my job, and I'm the Head Witch around here.

sumi, that is great news!

Sumi, all good things, and about time, too. You deserve for things to go better.

I'ma just... quote Pix

I just want to give those of you who hug big hugs. Jilli and Sara and sj and Liese and Gud and Steph and Zen and Windy and Maria and Glam and Amy and Dana and anyone I have inevitably forgotten to list here because I have NO MEMORY anymore, please know that though I don't speak up often, I see you and I care and I am pulling for you.

and Laura

Love and hugs and support to all as needed. I read and send loving thoughts, but often don't know what to say for fear that my words won't convey the real level of compassion and concern I feel.

because I can't say it better on my own.

As for anger, I'm not an angry person. I have moments of righteous rage, but they're soon over--either I find some way to fix the situation, or I manage to let it go. I don't have the energy to fuel simmering resentment or grudges. I just don't. So it's not strength of character so much as lack of cope that I have to let rage go.

And too, I'm cursed with an overabundance of objectivity, which has often left me propping up the person causing me tsuris. The kids had a shorthand for it, the gesture of shoulder patting while intoning uber-solicitously, "There, there. There, there." Learning about how my brain functions--or doesn't--has given me some perspective and some peace--it never was all my fault. Discovering decades after the fact that I was the adopted only child of an undiagnosed, untreated bipolar parent excuses a whole whaleboat full of "failures" I no longer have to bear the blame for. So, yay therapy.

It makes my heart expand to see those of you who need help seeking and finding it, and reaching some resolution and equilibrium. We're all really good people. We just need to be told and shown the truth of that.

Smonster, glad to do it. (and, um, it may not have taken the whole 1.5 hour. Um. Just sayin')