Can’t speak for any of you, but when I’m angry, I write. Might meet it head on, might come at it from behind, might ambush it from the side. Doesn’t matter. I write to bring it out, expose it, maybe even try to make sense of it (assuming there’s sense to be made, which too often isn’t the case).
So this post isn’t about about elephants or writing or ice cream or summer or any of the other things I typically write about.
Because I’m angry.
I’m beyond angry. I’m enraged. I’m also frustrated and horrified and hands-up-drop-em-down-mind-boggled-what-the-fuck-do-we-do-NOW?
You all know that feeling of evil surprise — that “where the hell did that come from” sensation, like you’ve stepped on the business end of a rake and snapped the handle up ka-POW! right between the eyes. In some ways, I haven’t been this angry since a young woman I barely knew, a lovely girl named Rebecca, died in June 2011
My rage is two-fold.
Yesterday, my brother Gene’s son, Josh, died. The particulars aren’t pleasant, but they aren’t mine to share, and it’s really nobody’s business and it isn’t important anyway except to those who knew him. Suffice to say that Josh’s demons won, dammit to hell. He leaves behind a grieving father and step-mother, four children, friends, and relatives. He drove them crazy. He worried them incessantly and, sometimes, unnecessarily. He refused to believe in his own self-worth. And now he’s gone and there ain’t no coming back from that.
Today, I discovered that a woman I met on Facebook, someone who’s become a dear long-distance friend, has been diagnosed with multiple myeloma.
She writes: “Multiple myeloma is a cancer of the plasma cells in the bone marrow.
The cause of multiple myeloma is not known. Risk factors for multiple myeloma have not been established although researchers have suggested genetic abnormalities, such as c-Myc genes or environmental exposures, may play a role. The prognosis for myeloma is only fair. Median survival is about three years, but some patients have a life expectancy of 10 years.
Well, darn it.”
Darn it, indeed. Darn it to Hell.