Thoughts on hatred

"Often times, I have hated in self defense; if I were stronger I would not have used such a weapon." 

-Kahlil Gibran

Hatred as a means of self defense is an interesting concept to think about. Typically, people hate things that they do not understand, or are jealous of. Keeping with the theme of hatred and lack of strength, it would seem that the only real test of strength would be, instead to love, despite not understanding, despite wanting what the other has. Strength would then indeed be, to love anyway and try to understand.

This quote brings up an issue that I have harbored in my soul for the past year. Hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred. Some may think that I am incapable of such a strong thing. I disagree, my form of hatred may be a different form, but it is still hatred. I know that all of the things that I am going through and have already gone through are normal. They are part of the grieving process. I know that everyone's process is different. I know lots about grieving, on paper, trust me I've read piles of literature. I also know that when you first feel that negative emotion creeping in, that you feel guilty. Like you aren't allowed to be negative in any way about your life situation. After all, everything happens for a reason, God only gives you what you can handle and he's in a better place, right? People just want to help, it's part of the human psyche to do things that make you feel good. Saying things that you deem as good and helpful to one that is hurting, then in turn makes you feel better. Unfortunately, most of the time, the people saying these things have no idea what they are talking about. They have no idea what it is to lose someone so close to you.  Someone that you love with all of your being, who loved you just the same, knew you better than anyone and is your very best friend. Together, you chose to share your life no matter the ups and downs, chose to create children and raise them, chose that person as someone you want to be with always, and grow old with.

You should know that there have been many times that I have looked at happy couples and families and hated them. Hated them for what they have and I didn't. Hated them for not realizing what they truly have. Hated their children for having a father when mine did not. Hated them for being happy when I was not. I despise that my kids do not have a father to take them to Cub Scouts, soccer games, throw balls in the backyard, teach them to drive, watch football with... any and all of the things that dads do. It seemed to me for a long time that the world should not go on turning, that no one should be happy because the most important person in my life was gone from the earth. Fully understanding that everyone has their own cross to bear, it didn't matter to me what theirs was. In my eyes, mine was more painful and more visible than theirs. I haven't felt this way for a while, but every once in a while it creeps up, and probably will continue for a large portion of my life.

This is the honest truth, and anyone who has been through loss can attest to this. This apparently is a normal part of the grieving process too, according to the abundance of pamphlets I have received. But, even when you read the words on the paper telling you that it's normal, it still doesn't seem okay to feel that way. The gross, nasty, undesirable thoughts and actions do occur, whether you like it or not. There is always a "Why me?" being asked in the back of your head and there will never be an answer (God only gives you what you can handle is not an answer, by the way). I think accepting that is the hardest part of all of it. Knowing that you will never know. Knowing that you will never know, and accepting it. Loving instead of hating. Understanding instead of hating. In essence, putting down the weapon of hatred, no matter how it manifests itself in your life.