Suddenly I'm filled with absolute rage that all of this has been snatched away from us and that those days are gone for ever. I'm angry with life and with death. I'm so angry with myself for every single moment of Suzie's life that I didn't fully appreciate and perfectly cherish at the time. I'm angry that all the joy and love and fun we shared has been taken away, and I'm so very angry that I'm still here and she isn't.
Anger frightens me in a way that nothing else does because it's so overpowering and uncontrollable. I don't trust myself to handle it responsibly. Whereas depression causes me to withdraw and hide away in safety, this kind of rage gives way to reckless and impulsive actions that seem to bypass my rational mind. Suppressing it is unsustainable and yet the consequences of not doing so are unthinkable.
Reading back over these paragraphs I'm struck by the thought that exposing this dark and hideous aspect of my experience may, in itself, be an impulsive action that I will live to regret. I'm ashamed of some of the things I'm feeling and thinking right now, but it occurs to me that there may be others for whom this 'admission' might strike a chord. Maybe there are some nice, respectable and up-standing individuals reading this who are facing similar abhorrent thoughts and emotions, and hating themselves for it. As always, I pray that my openness and honesty might help someone else to feel that they're not alone.
God bless you.