Trying to stand

There are a couple of things I am going to do when getting home. I think they will mainly concern me. Why? Oh, I know well that giving happiness to others is so much more than happiness for my own sake.
But this is not about happiness. This is about my mental health.

It has been over a year, and I still feel completely ripped up. I have already gotten far in my getting back up, but there are still so many issues plaguing me. Can you understand? I don't think many of you can. Since I get quotes like "get over it already" and "but you have wolf now" and shit like that. Well, surprise. I am not over it completely. Over it in the sense there is no love or fuzzy feelings or such shit.
But there is hate.
Have you known hate? I doubt it. I knew, almost exactly one year ago, that I had never before. I know now, and gods! I wish so bad that I never would have had to. I want it gone. It feels like it must have felt for Carcaroth, the Great Wolf - my stomach burning and screaming for nourishment (that is the hate wanting outlet, wanting revenge and wanting to hate even more), and my stomach burning and screaming in pain and sadness and loss and all feelings that have no word (like when the Red Wolf ate Beren's hand, holding the Silmaril, and ran out wreaking havoc unto the plains below, his hunger unsatiable, his suffering beyond words).
Can you imagine? I would say "no", but you may gainsay me if you like. Oh, being spurned by a lover is nothing in comparison. Losing someone is another matter entirely than this. Being thwarted from doing that which you love... This is beyond, another thing entirely.
Hate. Never again shall I use that word as I have. I know what it is and I would want it gone but it is.

Is it of my own making? Usually, my issues are. This is not, which makes it so much harder to take away. Mandos knows I hate you still! You, who would fool me. You, whose red hot blood must have been blackest, vilest poison. Did I break you? Nay. I know I did not. It was you who went down.
Do you all know who I am talking about? The thief who stole so much. The hypocrite! He called himself Dark shadows, or mist or something I care not! Blast you. Blast you sevenfold for hiding all those things that were destructive inside you and that you then slowly managed to shackle me with! I can see myself in a metaphorical picture - this time, not with all the small around me, as with the first. This time, with your shackles. And your suffering, that you so gladly would suffer. Brownhaired lying bastard.
Two-timed I was. Well, that is not so much my problem as - what is true? Almost one year and a half, what is true? My memories may betray me. My perceptions might all have been wrong, all have been false. How can I know? You said you would answer, but of course you did not. Of course. Seven times I would curse you, and the excitement the Hate inside me feel frightens me. I do not wish to curse! But I want to. Yet I want it not.

My memory, who is so important to me. Not even the good things may be true. Who can say but him?

Hate.

Churning stomach. I see his picture and it surges again. KILL. HATE. Death to him.


So. What I shall do when I get back home:
I might try and find a therapist to help me with this. Because I think... this time, I cannot do this all by myself. And even with all the help from my friends, this needs attention. I do not want to be hung up on this! I want it gone! All of it. It has been one year and it is time I got release from it.
I will go and confront a doctor about my knees and indeed all of this pain. Is it arthritis, is it rheumy, is it fibromyalgia, is it something else? I have had enough non-answers. I want to know what it is so I can reply to questions clearly, I want to know so I can fight it.
I will take time and visit my father's mother again. I need her wisdom. The whole world does.
I will try and become better at saying things - using my mother's voice is not good. And in this process, I will actually tell you all about the things I have this far shut up about. To hell with being diplomatic - or, some of it. There are things some of you need to know and since no one else is saying it I might as well. Like it or not.
And I shall try and stop whining so damn much. But first, I will get myself a t-shirt saying "grumpygirl".