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So, my stepmother, who was my mother in all ways but blood, was killed in a car accident on June 10th. It was a one car accident, and she was the only person injured.
I'm sad about that, but not angry in any way. In fact, she had a number of chronic illnesses that caused her a lot of pain and really degraded her quality of life. In a way, this was mercifully quick, as it appears she was unconscious before the accident - the cruise control was still turned on when the police arrived at the scene. Far better than her finally losing her ability to move and slowly wasting away in a hospital bed, which is where everything was headed.
No, what makes me angry, furious, and just generally ignites a seething white hot rage in me is that at some point prior to the arrival of the police and the paramedics, someone else arrived on the scene.
That person proceeded to strip the wreck and her purse of valuables - about $1,000 in jewelry of more sentimental than material value, as they were all gifts from my dad, her cash, checks, debit card, credit card, digital camera, cell phone, etc. When they were finished, they dropped her empty purse on the road next to her, where she lay dying. This person didn't even have the decency to call 911 anonymously. They just left her there to bleed out.
I don't know who did it, the cops didn't check for prints since my dad discovered all of this several days after the accident when he picked up her stuff which had been handled by a number of people already, and it is basically impossible for us to ever know who did it. Unless they're stupid enough to use the credit/debit cards themselves. It hasn't happened yet, so I doubt it will, to be honest.
If it was someone I knew, even remotely, I could just walk up to them, tell them off (or in this case probably worse than a verbal thrashing) and get it out of my system. But here, there is no one to yell at, no one to press charges against, no one to walk up to and say 'You! You're the one who did this!'.
I've spent a lifetime getting over depression and suicide. I can handle the sadness. I can handle being down. But the ball of rage in my gut is just relentless, the pressure is building and so far there doesn't seem to be any kind of safety valve that I can use to get it to back off.
Any ideas how I can start to get past that? I realize it may just be a case of time, but I find myself thinking about at odd times and a few people have made comments about the look on my face when I think about it. A couple of friends told me I looked homicidal. Which is probably quite accurate. I just need some help, and you folks tend to be a font of wisdom and good old fashioned common sense.
I'm sad about that, but not angry in any way. In fact, she had a number of chronic illnesses that caused her a lot of pain and really degraded her quality of life. In a way, this was mercifully quick, as it appears she was unconscious before the accident - the cruise control was still turned on when the police arrived at the scene. Far better than her finally losing her ability to move and slowly wasting away in a hospital bed, which is where everything was headed.
No, what makes me angry, furious, and just generally ignites a seething white hot rage in me is that at some point prior to the arrival of the police and the paramedics, someone else arrived on the scene.
That person proceeded to strip the wreck and her purse of valuables - about $1,000 in jewelry of more sentimental than material value, as they were all gifts from my dad, her cash, checks, debit card, credit card, digital camera, cell phone, etc. When they were finished, they dropped her empty purse on the road next to her, where she lay dying. This person didn't even have the decency to call 911 anonymously. They just left her there to bleed out.
I don't know who did it, the cops didn't check for prints since my dad discovered all of this several days after the accident when he picked up her stuff which had been handled by a number of people already, and it is basically impossible for us to ever know who did it. Unless they're stupid enough to use the credit/debit cards themselves. It hasn't happened yet, so I doubt it will, to be honest.
If it was someone I knew, even remotely, I could just walk up to them, tell them off (or in this case probably worse than a verbal thrashing) and get it out of my system. But here, there is no one to yell at, no one to press charges against, no one to walk up to and say 'You! You're the one who did this!'.
I've spent a lifetime getting over depression and suicide. I can handle the sadness. I can handle being down. But the ball of rage in my gut is just relentless, the pressure is building and so far there doesn't seem to be any kind of safety valve that I can use to get it to back off.
Any ideas how I can start to get past that? I realize it may just be a case of time, but I find myself thinking about at odd times and a few people have made comments about the look on my face when I think about it. A couple of friends told me I looked homicidal. Which is probably quite accurate. I just need some help, and you folks tend to be a font of wisdom and good old fashioned common sense.
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