I am angry. I'm angry about a whole list of things. That my son's back will never be right. That we don't have enough money to send him to college. Or buy a van we desperately need (six people jammed in a sedan- comfy! As long as no one breathes.) I'm angry that my husband works so hard and has such a good job, and we still never have money for the things we need. That we've been able to afford ONE real vacation in fifteen years of marriage.
I'm angry that I have to go be tested for this disease tomorrow. The Huntington's. The thought that, on top of PTSD and all the crap I endured to get PTSD I have to have endometriosis, too. And gluten intolerance. And be at risk for another damned disease that will eat my brain and make me act crazy and be a burden to my husband and children and make me unable to function. Like I'm not already barely able to function NOW. I'm angry that I may not be able to go back to school. May never work again. I hate this. I hate it.
I don't really feel sorry for myself. I actually feel pretty blessed most of the time. But I am angry. In the last three years, my best friend was blown up. We were robbed. I had surgery. My MIL broke both her legs (thanks to fossamax), my dad died of a combination of cancer, stroke, and stubbornness (may he rot in peace), my mom was diagnosed with Huntington's and has started going crazy, my grandpa died, my 15-year-old kid was diagnosed with a degenerative disc disease and now lives in constant pain, I was finally diagnosed with PTSD, and more things have broken around the house than I can conveniently list.
I feel like my life has gone to shit. I used to think life was a pretty good place. Bad spots. You know, living through rape & various types of child abuse, I never expected much. I didn't think it was all going to be a party. I didn't ask a lot. But now, with all this medical stuff, I just feel like there's no hope, no stability any where. I feel like it's all going to get worse and worse and no one I love will ever be happy or safe again and I can't make any of it better and I just want to die, only I'm afraid to die because I'm not sure there's really a God any more. And I'm afraid all the time, but I can't let it out because I have to be good and happy for my husband and the kids.
And with all the fear, I'm just really, really angry. I think for the first time in my life I want to shake my fist at heaven and say, "Why me? Why me, Lord?" And then I feel really guilty for feeling that way. :notworthy:
