Tag Archives: anger

The In Laws

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My kids come back home today
and they tell me
(Insert Husband’s Mistress’s name here)
is going with us to Utah in July!
I’m flattened.
In a state of shock.
I think I might have gasped.
My daughter asks
Are you jealous, Mom?
And I answer
No, not jealous…I’m…I’m…surprised.
I text him a litany of curse words
to make any sailor proud.
Then I text his Mormon mother,
my (still) mother in law,
the woman I called Mom for seven years.
Are you okay with them
sharing a bed in your home
when we are still married?
I don’t want my children exposed
to their adulterous behavior.
She answers back,
That’s never allowed in my house.
But talk to him. Not me.  That’s it.
Then I text his dad and his stepmom.
Neither one of them answers.
No surprise there.
I mean, after seven good years of marriage
and still together after eight,
what’s one daughter in law
down the drain?
I guess I’m disposable to them
Just like I was to him.
Luckily there was a CoDA meeting tonight.

How?

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You have to just let go
they keep telling me.
But how?
I think really
IT needs to let go of me.
IT has its hooks in me.
I want to be free.
I want to feel alive again.
I don’t want to be angry,
hurt, sad or depressed anymore.
I want to set my life in order.
I want my home to be organized.
I want to have work
that allows me
to support myself and my children.
But tomorrow
I apply for food stamps
because my money is all gone.
I get angry when I think about this.
He left our marriage,
and has moved on.
Now he spends his time
and his money on another.
Yes, I want to let go.
But how?

This Is True

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On the eve of my 41st birthday
and I’m feeling depressed.
My life has fallen apart,
husband with another woman…
they’re out tonight
at a Passover Seder,
at the home of a couple
who used to be my friends;
now they’ve accepted her as his,
and I am home with our children,
picking up the pieces of our wrecked life,
trying to maintain stability for them…
and I feel angry.
I feel hurt.
I feel betrayed, abandoned, discarded.
I want to be heard.
I want to be held.
I want to be seen.
I want a wise old grandma
to pull me into her lap,
to rock me, and hush me,
and tell me I am safe,
and all is well.
But there is no grandma here…
only me and my kids.
I search for meaning
as my fingers dance across keys,
sending words out
into a world of people
I most likely will never meet.
Who hears this?
Who cares?
Who knows this pain?
Who can tell me
that things will get better?
Who can convince me
that this is true?

You Can’t Scare Me

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Go ahead,
sell the house.
Go ahead,
change the Wifi password.
Go ahead,
tell me that you think
I’m mentally ill.
It’s fine.
You can’t scare me.
And maybe that’s why
you’re pushing so hard—
you know deep inside
that this is about your fear,
not mine.
When you wake up
from this nightmare
and you’re ready to relate to me
as an adult,
I’ll be ready.
Until then,
get your mommy,
get your blankie,
get your warm milk,
and go fuck yourself.

 

*******
Wrote this directly after having another unsatisfactory conversation with the man I married eight years ago, who informed me he wanted a divorce in July, who still lives in the house with us, and who is threatening to sell the house, saying, “There’s nothing you can do about it.”  I’m not in the best mood right now, but I’m not scared.

Pulled Under

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The pull of the shadow emotions
is very strong, as if I were chained
to boulders and thrown overboard
into the ocean,
trying to keep from being pulled under,
struggling to catch my breath,
so much thrashing about,
fighting for survival.
And then it occurs to me,
what if I let myself get pulled under?
What is down there?
Maybe once I’m pulled under
someone familiar with the depths
shows up with a key
and unlocks the chains from around me,
sets me free.
Maybe I discover I’m holding the key,
and I can find freedom even as I sink,
holding my breath, keeping my wits about me,
finding lightness, swimming back up
to breathe the breath of life.
Maybe I die in those depths.
Maybe I am reborn
some shimmering creature of the land and sea,
able to navigate both worlds.
I can’t know what waits for me
if I keep struggling at the surface.
Maybe I’ll let myself be pulled under.

Getting Stronger

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Mental gymnastics.
Trying to be strong,
trying to choose the positive way,
resisting negativity, anger,
and then it comes, white hot
and so fast it’s all a blur.
Lost it again.
How many times have I lost it today?
How many times have I apologized
to my children for my explosive anger?
And then it’s time
to apologize to myself
for judging myself
for being hurt and lashing out.
Faced with all of this pain
I’m doing the best I can,
but the voice inside
says, “Never good enough.”
How do I respond to that?
I take a deep breath.
I step back into the arena.
More mental gymnastics,
and maybe I’m getting stronger each time.

The Message Becomes Clear

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The sadness consumes me
and it feels so familiar to be caught like this,
to be caught by anger, by resentment,
by anxiety, by fear, by doubt…
It occurs to me that it doesn’t take
much courage to feel what I’m feeling,
but it does take courage to recognize
what the feelings are here to teach me.
What can I learn from the sadness,
from these shadow emotions
whose presence bring balance
to the more desirable states of
joy, calm, love, confidence?
There is a deeper courage called for here:
to trust that if they’ve shown up,
they have something, some message to convey,
and to be patient and wait
while the message becomes clear.