The Toxic Family Member

That is me. I always assumed that it was someone else, easy to point the finger at someone I don't like, but after my most recently meltdown, I realize that the toxic family member is me. It has been over two years since I lost my brother and I seem to still just be stuck at the angry phase, the phase where I am angry at the world, angry at myself and everyone around me.
Everyday I still think about what I should have done differently....or what if this person had done "this" so that it would have cascaded into a more positive outcome.

I feel as though I haven't healed at all, like I am just going through the motions, finding these small pieces of happiness in my overall unhappy mindset. But maybe that is the healing process. Finding small  moments of happiness and stringing them together to outshine the bad bits. I eagerly await the day when I have moved beyond the angry phase in my grieving...but until then I suppose I have to come up with some healthier coping mechanisms.

For whatever reason, 2019 felt beyond my control. I think maybe, I was putting too much pressure on myself, wanted too much instant gratification instead of trusting "the process". My finances are a mess, because I led with my pride instead of sound financial acumen. So lesson learned there. I also put my health to the wayside, not really pushing myself the way I did the year prior. And I think a lot of that ties into my inability to face my emotions head on. I generally prefer to bury things and hope they go away, out of sight out of mind type of thing. Which is all find and dandy until you get drunk and lose your shit at your family who has realistically done nothing wrong. Without anything to motivate me to run more miles or hike harder trails, I just sort of allow my inner sloth become my outer sloth.

On a positive note, I was able to accomplish my more tangible goals, just not the emotional ones (clearly).  So the goal for this year....is plan, record, be patient, and be kind, to myself and others. To do that, I will remember my mantras: I love my brother. My brother loved me. I acknowledge that there are so many things I could have/should have done, but his loss is not my fault. I love my mom. She is an imperfect human being with her own trauma and guilt and regret and irrational emotions, but my brothers loss is not her fault. I love my family, both blood related and hand-picked from a sea of other humans, and despite everything they love me. It is possible to be open to love despite feeling crippling loss. And when it doubt....just run it out (Whiskey Row Half, I'm coming for you, fueled with anger and sadness and love).