Hitting Anger

I hate my coworker, KO. She has been pushing me to take the grad class I was supposed to take this semester. I guess she can’t realize how close I am to truly falling apart. She came into my classroom after school asking about the class and talking about how I have to start putting my life back together and if I don’t take the class now, I may never be able to. I tried to tell her that I was not holding it together very well and couldn’t look at the teacher and the pregnant student all semester and that I could not handle the pressure of all the assignments. All stuff she’d heard before. She started talking about when her dad died and how I would see that there was a reason for what had happened. I stopped her and told her I would never believe that.

My baby is dead! What could be a good reason for that? What? Further, her father was old and sick. He was supposed to die. Healthy babies who are half way through gestation and who are loved beyond belief are not supposed to die. I told her that what happened to us was wrong and unnatural and I believe that in the deepest part of my heart and soul.

She mentioned something about God and I told her right out that I wasn’t sure I believed in him anymore. She did back off then and said she couldn’t understand what I was going through because she hadn’t experienced it and that she was just trying to watch out for me as a friend because not taking the class could mean I wouldn’t get the the job as a reading teacher that might be open next year and she wanted me to have it because I had so enjoyed that job when I had it.

How dare she or anyone else tell me what my grief over my dead son should look like. Who cares about some dumb class when it takes every ounce of strength I have to get out of bed? I’m not sure I can continue to work with children anyway so what is the point of taking a class to get a reading specialist degree?

I hate people.

Counseling tonight…I blabbered on and on and on crying and talking very fast about what happened with KO, the crazy thoughts going on in my head and Dr. H. RK honed in on the giant hamster wheel going full tilt in my head that never seems to stop. My brain is very busy. Also….trust issues, i.e. Dr. H and the support group leader and people in general.

Afterward, I drove to the University and canceled that effing class.
KO can kiss my grits.


Latajhia, the student who had said her sister’s baby died, found a moment to approach me when there was no one else nearby. She asked to see inside my necklace again and asked me what his name had been. I liked hearing her voice say, “Greyson…B—?” Then, she asked what my baby had looked like. I told her how cute and sweet he looked and showed her with my hands about how small he’d been. She smiled and went on her merry way. Later I asked her what had happened to her sister’s baby. Turns out it was her aunt’s baby and they had told Latajhia it would be a “preeennnie” but that it “got lost”. I talked with her a little about it, the whole time thinking about Dollface and wondering if someone was having a similar talk with her. She’s mentioned “your baby who died” a couple of times and it’s hard for me to talk to her about it.


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