I am easily irritated. I scowl, roll my eyes and bang cupboards harder than I need to. Everything anyone says is wrong. Small talk just pisses me off. I don’t think I should have to tell people how to help me, how to navigate my sorrow and rage.
I am being a bitch, I know, but I can’t help it and I don’t care.
Spring is a slap in the face.
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I don’t think you’re being a bitch, sometimes it is all just so irritating.
Small talk STILL infuriates me and I’m old news.
I’m very late to all of your posts, and to your story of Anja. I have a lot of catching up to do. I am so sorry.
I had gotten mostly past the struggle with small talk following my first son’s death, although it took years. And, now, I am enraged all over again, in the aftermath of Zachary’s death. I often wonder why it is me who has to hand-hold everyone, to help them figure out how not to hurt me/us, to attempt support. I barely have enough energy in me to get through the day.