So, I had this draft post titled “Toss me a pillow, I want to throw a tantrum” for a while. This was going to be a lot of venting, spewing about the unfairness of life and this sick disease. I don’t want to handle this like an adult, make the most of it, believe all things happen for a reason. I want to cry like a baby, roll around and pound the floor, throw things, break things, raise my fist to the sky and scream from the tips of my seven terrible toe nails (I had 3 removed as they were beyond terrible).
Before I finished the post, I actually had a tantrum. I yelled, cried, threw my shoe, yelled at my cats, slammed some cupboards. I threw an empty peanut butter container on the ground and “yelled, we are out of peanut butter”. Why was that empty container on the shelf anyways? I really wanted the PB and J sandwich!
It was a small tantrum considering how much is churning inside me, I didn’t want to scare myself or my husband with the ugliness inside me right now. I even told my husband he might want to stay somewhere else for a while. I am afraid of what might come out of me and don’t want to hurt anyone.
It is very possible my brother may not see March. I know he is suffering physically, emotionally and mentally. He can’t stand to be dependent on anyone, it is killing him. And he does not want his teenage kids to see him this way. I get it. I do.
He is ready to go.
How do I get ready to let go?
May 16, 2011 @ 19:31:11
Now tell me again; how many empty jars of peanut butter were there?
May 16, 2011 @ 21:16:34
Two Carla, there were two friggen empty jars of peanut butter. But I only threw one of them.