“Shut up!”I can’t even imagine how many times I heard those two words. Sometimes it would be because I and my brothers (2) were arguing about something, probably trivial. Sometimes I heard it because it was too noisy at the dinner table, or in the car.
Sometimes I heard it when I was trying to express myself, my feelings, my fears. There was no one to talk to about these things. She was never kind about it, just those two words, “Shut up!” I grew up with no one to talk to.
Now, I have trouble expressing my feelings to my therapist, or expressing them at all except anger. If my anger is triggered, I’m not just angry about the current situation, I’m angry at myself. I’m angry at my inability to solve a simple situation. I’m angry about my past life, and I’m angry about my current life and my future. I have a debilitating disease and I never know how fast it’s going to progress. I’m angry that my life may get cut short of what it would’ve been without the disease.
I’m angry about cancer, and all those commercials on TV about those hospitals that treat cancer so differently and people are treated like people, giving the impression that they are all going to be cured of it. That’s crap, and I know it. My mother had a simple, treatable cancer, and died of cancer. A friend had an inoperable tumor in his esophagus and it killed him. My aunt had colon cancer and it killed her.
But sometimes, when it’s quiet all around me, I still hear those words . . . “Shut up!”