Angry Words

In counseling on Tuesday, I kept saying the made up word EFFING and after a while, my counselor asked, "Wendy, do you ever just say the real F word?"

And it got me thinking because the real F word is always in my mind. I'm not kidding. Always. When I get angry or something happens, I think it every time. This never used to happen but since I'm now an angry person, it does.

So this week, I released the F word into my journal a few times. I wrote it and felt the power behind it even though it's just a stupid word. I felt like it finally got my point across of how ugly this all feels. No other word can quite describe how messy this all is for me. No other word has been able to describe my pain and anger.

It sounds kind of weird. It's just a word. But because it is a word I used to never ever say, it holds an ugly power and helps me process the way I'm feeling.

The physical letter I wrote Peter the other day was full of language and hatred and I was writing it as a step toward my healing. I knew I was going to burn it. I scribbled almost illegibly through two sheets of paper and when I was done, I read it to myself out loud.

And then I burned it. I took a lighter and set it on the concrete outside and I watched it go up in flames until all that was left were a few black ashes.

I came inside and damnit, I was still angry. I was hoping that magical letter would just erase my anger but it didn't. It couldn't.

I punched my pillow over and over and yelled out some of the ugly feelings I've been feeling lately and then I crashed in my bed, sweaty and tired from the physical and emotional torment.

So here's the thing, ladies and gents, I woke up a little less angry the next day. I woke up a little less distressed and hopeless.

Physically proclaiming my anger wasn't a fix-it-all but it helped me process through a few of the hundred angry feelings I'm feeling. It helped me to know what to scribble in my journal because often times, I don't even know where my anger is coming from or what I should write down. But that night, I knew it. I knew there were some really painful things I haven't faced regarding how our divorce happened.

There is so much trauma that came with being the parent who had to endure the nightmares and the puffy eyes and the million questions. I did it alone. Not only was I forced into a new reality where I was alone in my marriage, I was parenting children through some pretty significant trials and I did it alone.

And although I can happily report that my children are doing much better these days, I am still traumatized from those first few months of our separation because Peter was never man enough to sit down with our children and explain everything together. He left me to pick up the pieces of their shattered worlds. They blamed me. They physically lashed out at me. They called me hurtful names and begged to see their dad. And because they couldn't always see him, I was the bad guy for a while. Because they didn't understand the choices that were made or how divorce works, they thought I was keeping them from someone whom they love very much.


I won't mask my anger any longer because in a year, I don't want to be doing this all over again. So today I will stay angry at him and at my parents and I will continue to process these feelings so that someday, I can allow the atonement to take this pain away from me. I feel so strongly tonight that there will be a day where that happens.