Non-linear

I can usually find the words a friend in pain needs to hear. I can tell them to let their grieving happen. That it takes time. That there is no set schedule for grief or healing. That the process is not linear. Their pain and anger will ebb and flow, sometimes disappear and reappear seemingly at random. That it will eventually change, and in that change there will be better times. And when I say these things to my friends, I mean them. I know them to be true. They are not quippy phrases or Hallmark sentiments. They are lessons I've learned through my own pain and processing.
But when it IS my pain, when it IS my grief, I cannot get past the non-linear nature of it. I am frustrated by my sadness. Overwhelmed by my anger. I am angry at my inability to simply be o.k. I am annoyed by the hollow feeling and inescapable emptiness I sometimes feel, rather annoyed by inablitiy to just climb out of the hole this loss has created in my heart. Iam irritated by my regression; full of rage that I am back in a place, clouded and dark, where everything hurts or is numb. Because I should be past this. I should be over it. I should have healed by now. Instead, I am a raw nerve, frayed and tangled, just waiting for one more reason to shoot sparks of pain into the universe.
And I feel like a hypocrit.