Anger in grief

Anger in Grief

In my last post, I wrote about forgiveness, which was appropriate given the occasion of Easter. However, I needed to allow myself to experience anger before attempting to forgive.

The death of my son by suicide unleashed a profound anger within me that I never knew I possessed. This rage was so intense that it became debilitating. As David Kessler describes, anger serves as pain’s bodyguard. Our bodies struggle to cope with all the pain simultaneously, so anger provides a shield against the overwhelming sadness and hurt we experience. It helps us confront the devastating loss that has altered our lives. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross identified anger as a stage of grief that includes feelings of frustration, anxiety, and irritation.

Anger after loss

There are many reasons why I was angry about Kevin's death by suicide, especially my fury towards his therapist because I had discussed his mood swings with her and urged her to admit him to the hospital, knowing he was good at hiding his feelings and often put on a façade; he even told me he was smarter than his therapist, aside from the fact that she was younger than he was. I also offered to help him find a different therapist, but he refused, and some days, my anger feels overwhelming due to missing and yearning for my son. I have had thoughts about burning my house down to escape my pain, feeling as though he never wanted us to relocate to a different state, and that this new home harmed my emotions. The complexities of anger are significant. 

Two weeks after the loss of Kevin, we relocated amidst the COVID-19 pandemic—a transition that had been planned a year before my tragedy. I felt a profound sense of anger within me, provoked by the death of George Floyd in May 2020, as I heard Kevin’s voice when listening to George's plea for his mother. The pain penetrated to my core, making the world appear both cruel and unkind. I realized that those who have not endured experiences of injustice or unfair treatment can never fully comprehend the nature of such suffering.

Frustration

I often felt frustrated because I couldn't understand why I had missed the signs of my son's deep pain. I desperately wanted him to feel better, but I never asked him about his feelings, whether he was genuinely expressing himself or telling me what I wanted to hear. This frustration affected my daily life. For example, I become upset when I forget to do something important, like paying the bills. I've even misplaced my car keys in the fridge. I was absent-minded quite often.

My brain was foggy, making it difficult to concentrate and process information. I was frustrated by my lack of control over my cognitive abilities. I struggled to remember details and to understand what I was reading. I started using audiobooks as an alternative, but my attention span was limited. I could listen to audiobooks or podcasts multiple times while walking, exercising, or completing tasks around the house.

Irritation

I often feel irritated by insensitive comments or advice. While I understand that people generally don't intend to be hurtful, I can't change their behavior; instead, I can find ways to protect my heart and tune out those negative remarks and questions. Navigating these feelings has been challenging, but I am becoming better equipped to care for myself as I process the nuances of my emotions. It can be overwhelming and exhausting, and there are days when I don't have the emotional bandwidth to cope.

Anxiety

My anxiety was intense. I was unable to drive for 12 months because I feared I might forget to apply the brakes, have an anxiety attack, or suffer from heart palpitations. My stress hormones were at their peak. When I started driving my car again, I encountered severe anxiety; often, my knees and legs shook uncontrollably, and I was terrified of having a car crash as my anxiety peaked. Who knew that grief could have such a profound impact on both physical and emotional well-being? I felt like a wreck. Have you ever experienced these symptoms?

Fatigue and tiredness significantly contributed to my anxiety. My sleep patterns changed, and I often experienced disturbing and unpleasant dreams. My stomach felt as though it was constantly in knots. I found it difficult to trust myself to leave the house because we had been away, and upon return, we found Kevin dead. I was angry that we went on vacation, and I only agreed to go because I was persuaded to do so. The anxiety I felt about going out made me dread coming home. As I unlocked my front door, my heart, stomach, and head all reacted to my anxiety. Living this way required enormous energy, often leaving me feeling completely depleted. I thought that I was going mad.

Kevin's Anger

I now realize how much anxiety and frustration Kevin experienced. He told me about the times he felt angry at different people for name-calling. This makes me angry that I didn't act or say anything to those cruel individuals because they knew he was mentally challenged. He needed a compassionate ear to listen, not excuses for others' insensitivity.

I remember how frustrated he became when he couldn't complete tasks on time or when it took him a long time to finish assignments due to his difficulty concentrating. Eventually, Kevin isolated himself and stopped talking about his feelings. He may have felt that he was the problem. In hindsight, I now understand his frustration and the reasons behind his isolation. It was a defense mechanism resulting from his compromised mental health.

Processing Anger

Anger during grief stems from everyday frustrations, including dissatisfaction with politics and routine annoyances.

While anger might first appear as a negative emotion during grief, it can be a strong catalyst for change. It highlights injustices and unfairness, driving self-improvement and helping me recognize triggers and mindfulness techniques. Since my loss, I have grown more self-aware and careful about not overstepping boundaries with grief-illiterate people—those who often make the most painful comments without intending to. I sat with my anger long enough until she revealed her true identity as grief - C.S. Lewis. There is no turning back from grieving!

I felt angry with God because I believed He would protect Kevin. I allowed myself to experience my feelings and sought to come to terms with my anger toward God, understanding that it's common to hold Him responsible for tragedies. I memorized the verses from the scriptures to calm my anxiety. Praying, lamenting, and seeking support have assisted me in dealing with my anger. Psalm 37:8 says, "Let go of anger and leave rage behind. Do not be preoccupied. It only leads to evil".

Does the death of a loved one leave you angry? How do you cope with anger after a loss? I would love to hear how you process this challenging emotion.