I just don’t understand how I’m the only one whose angry! Why does my family not remember how Stephanie RUINED ALL OF US!!!??? Long before she fucked the family for life by killing herself, she hurt us in a million tiny & giant ways. Mostly giant.
Why does the suicide of a loved one automatically equate to a halo? My sister was beautiful & manipulative & violent & smart & athletic & sexy & an addict & a good mom & a shitty mom & mean & nice & lazy & driven & cruel … & you name it.
But she killed herself, and BAM none of those things were true anymore
You are definitely not the only angry one. My sister left behind a 3 year old and a 19 year old. The worst thing I ever heard was the sound of her 3 year old crying for his mommy the day after she ended it. Her 19 year old is struggling with college and vomiting 3 times weekly during what should be the best years of his life. My parents were loving people who did nothing to deserve burying a child. She wrote a lot about suicide prior to having children, prior to following through. So even though the act itself was impulsive, she had a plan to more or less take off the shelf and at some point must have considered the consequences. The people hurting the most did nothing to make her life difficult, and when we saw her struggling we all tried to help. She pushed us away and stayed in a relationship with a man who mentally abused her AND her son.
At the same time though, I think something in her made it hard for her to genuinely feel loved. I don’t know what that’s like, so I guess it’s not fair for me to judge. And I understand she lacked the self confidence to easily leave toxic relationships, though I really think she should have for the sake of her son.
And sometimes I think it’s easier for me to focus on the anger than the sorrow that she’s gone–I considered her my best friend and I feel that part of me and my childhood is forever gone.
I promise you’re not the only angry one. But grief is not a straight line. It’s not a list where you check off each stage and move on. We flit in and out depending on the day, the hour, the mood.
For my part, my brother could be a jerk. And that doesn’t excuse the pain he’s caused. But at the same time, did all the things he did warrant a death sentence? No. But you see he believed it did. He hung himself in his s***hole apartment in central Ohio and he died believing he was a failure and that nobody loved him.
And every penny he stole, every time he lied, every mean and hateful thing he said? I would withstand that all over again just so I could tell him I love him one more time.
It’s not that we’re not angry. And it’s not that it’s not okay for you to be angry. And it’s not that these people didn’t hurt us in ultimate ways. But at the end of the day, what does it change?
Feel your anger. And I mean, use that fury to further you. But someday that anger will have carried you as far as it can and you’re going to have to let go.
I am sorry for your loss. And I’m sorry you’re angry. And I’m sorry your sister wasn’t good to you. And I’m sorry that my “sorry” means nothing. It doesn’t fix anything.
I am right there with you feeling the same thing! My brother passed away last week after a long battle with alcoholism. His cause of death is pending, but it was most likely a suicide according to the medical examiners. My brother had a history of failed suicide attempts and overdosing over a span of many years, so none of this is a surprise. I cut ties with my brother 1.5 years ago because I could no longer endure his toxic merry-go-round. My mom on the other hand always stood by his side as an enabler, hiding under the guise of “unconditonally loving her baby boy.” Now that my brother has passed, I am so angry at him and my mom. My Mom is glorifying him and if I dare speak my ill thoughts on the whole thing, she reacts to me like I am a cold hearted witch for not wanting to sit around and sob and think about my brother as a swell guy. I rationally understand my brother was in a deep place of pain, but like you, why do they get a halo out of nowhere? No one seems to remember the pain the person caused while living and now in death. My mom chose to bury my brother next to my Father who was a wonderful, noble man. This just feels so wrong to me, but my mom feels like this is perfect because her baby boy can be with his Dad now. I know this may be sounding really weird, but it is how I am feeling right now.