I’m angry today. Really angry. It’s come out of the blue, too. I spent most of yesterday annoyed, but I wasn’t angry.
Well, it’s sort of come out of the blue. Since I knew I had to be in Dallas today with S, I knew it would be the perfect day to go to Nordstrom to buy a surgical bra to wear after surgery while she was at her art lesson. I’ve known for awhile I would need one, but I’ve put it off. I didn’t want to buy one. It makes everything too real.
There’s a girl who works in the lingerie department at Nordstrom who was incredibly kind to me back in September. I’d gone to Nordstrom to buy a new bra because I’d lost nearly twenty pounds by then and the bra I had didn’t fit well. That and I HATED it. The girl working there who helped me was so nice. I told her I needed a new bra, but it was stupid of me to buy one because I’d just been diagnosed with breast cancer and would be having a bilateral mastectomy soon. She told me it wasn’t stupid, and I deserved to be comfortable until then. I’ve gone back to Nordstrom’s lingerie a couple of times since then, and she’s been there every time. She remembered me. So, knowing she handled me bursting into tears the first time she helped me, I figured she could help me deal with my needs today and do it with kindness and empathy. And, she did. She was wonderful today. She hugged me when I checked out, and I’m glad because I wanted to hug her but thought she might be creeped out.
Here’s the thing. The fact I need a surgical bra for a mastectomy makes me angry. The fact I have breast cancer makes me angry. The fact I felt the urge to write an today epitaph, and did write one and saved it to my drafts folder, makes me angry. The fact I’m worried I won’t be here for my kids makes me angry. The fact I may not get to grow old with A makes me angry. The fact I may become a burden to my family makes me angry. I’m just angry today.
I used to be very religious. I went to church every Sunday. I dedicated my life. I prayed. I read the Bible. I believed everything my church stood for, and I may not have been the best Christian, but I tried. I tried so hard, and I know I wasn’t the perfect Christian. I stumbled. I fell. I felt guilty. I prayed for forgiveness. And, while I fear this may come back on me, I’m so angry with God. I know it’s irrational, but that’s how I feel.
When I was first diagnosed several people to me “God never gives you more than you can handle.” I don’t believe that. At some point, there are things that are too much to handle. Isn’t that where anger, sorrow, heartbreak come from?
I’m so angry today.