I’ve officially entered the angry stage of my grieving. Yesterday I was angry with my dad for not quitting smoking and since then it’s expanded to being angry about a bunch of other things that are mostly my own fault. I’m angry with myself for not calling more, for not going home more often and for not speaking up when I felt something was wrong. I realize there’s little I can do beyond accepting that the past is the past and not beat myself up over it. I’ve considered adopting a new dad from a rescue shelter but since I made the dad shelter up it’s probably not going to happen.
To be honest, I’m mostly angry about petty things that I’ll soon get over: things like a baseball game we never got to, the secret stash of snacks and chocolate milk I wasn’t allowed to touch, and a lot of things that are really no one’s fault. I’m just going to be angry about it until I figure out a way to not be.