The fury

After three-and-a-half years, I can cope with most days.
Some days are sad.
Some days are just part of the grey melange I seem to be constantly wading through.
Some days are good (not great – nothing is great).
And some days I am Just Furious.

But I don’t know where to direct this fury…

I am furious that my life is not what I worked so hard for.
I am furious at God….. on the days I choose to believe he exists.
I am furious that I have lost my faith.
I am furious at Greg for dying.
I am furious that I haven’t even had the stability of a job to go to each day….. I am furious that I have had to fight to keep the job I love and am good at (at least this year I have a boss who is actively working to keep me and who argues with the staffing officer on my behalf).

I am furious with myself for not coping like I want to.

I know this is not ideal.
I should be calmer, and for the most part, I am.
For the most part I am a kind, functional, rational human being.

But some days, the anger at How This Happened To Me is so strong that I want to scream and shout at the Universe.
…and then the feeling passes and I go back to this new normal.