Anger that brings tears.

I’m suffocating in the sin and loneliness, lost completely and wishing to be found, restlessly waiting for something or someone to make me better.
I am discontent, yet again. Angry.
Angry at Mom for being right
Angry at myself for being helpless
Angry at my doctors for telling me the truth and being concerned about me
Angry at the insurance companies for doing what they have to do
Angry at my bones for being fragile
Angry at my head for being wrongly shaped
Angry at everybody who said it would be okay
Angry because I cannot handle the definition of okay
Angry because I feel so alone
Angry because I am stuck here, and I don’t feel at home
Angry because there is no way out
Angry because I just have to wait
Angry because i’m not allowed to hate
Angry because I can’t just give up
Angry because I can’t just give in
Angry because this road is so much harder
Angry because I cannot see how it’s better
Angry because I do not understand
Angry because I just want to be loved and loved and it is too difficult and too hard
Angry that it is so hard to love, to say hello, to be your friend and share your life and troubles
Angry because everything hurts
Angry because I feel nothing at all
Angry because where is God?
Angry because I have sunk to that level, because I am questioning him and I have no right
Angry because there should be an answer to my question, I know there is, it is impossible for there not to be.
Angry because I’m incapable of knowing.
Angry because all I want to do is talk to someone and tell them every single one of my problems without them instantly telling me everything everyone has already said before, without them giving me the same advice, without them acting like my pain and misery is a normal part of life. Angry because they won’t listen and hear how miserably hopeless I am. Angry because days of contentness destroy the fact that I am Angry.
Angry because it hurts too much and being happy is always replaced by fear and the recognition that I am alone and have done nothing and will do nothing and no one will care about the nothingness I exist in.
Angry because it hurts and I am awake and there is nothing else to do but be angry.
Angry because I am angry.
Angry because I am restless.
Angry because I am sad.
Angry because I don’t know what to do in my life and all paths are blocked by my own inadequacies that I am too weak to overcome because I feel like after struggling so long I’m entitled to have the answers given to me because it cannot be this hard, there is no reason for it to be this hard, why, oh why, is it so unbearably hard to be Happy?

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About writingcatherine

This started as a documentation of my adventures in Europe...but hey, life's an adventure in itself.
This entry was posted in Poetry, Writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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