(Maybe you have an unusually calm and generous temperament, @BecalmedBrandy? I'm absolutely dreadful at pain, and when I was in (non-progressing) labour with DS I stalked the house with my TENS machine and ice cubes, feeling absolutely murderous towards the world at large....)
I think, looking back, that I hadn't absorbed the idea that at least some readers of TSP clearly have/had, that this was an inspirational and 'lovely' book about lovely people being lovely and the intended effect being inspirational and uplifting. I wasn't expecting 'lovely'.
I think I was approaching it more as an 'unflinching' memoir, and for me, the unflinchingness included the acknowledgement (as I thought), by the author that her state of mind when they walked the path was frequently angry, bitter and self-righteous towards other people. I assumed SW was making a point by not editing that out, or pretending she was grateful to the people who'd helped them, any more than she was pretending they always smelled nice on the path.
I think I did notice that she wasn't nice about Jan or Polly when I first read it, but again, I thought that including her 'unfair' feelings about them was a kind of honesty. I thought it made for uncomfortable reading, and I do remember wondering whether her editor had asked whether she was sure about some of it, given how bad it made her look, but again, I thought this was supposed to be the point. Sort of 'Here I am, warts and all. Excuse me for not behaving like a saint when I'd just lost my home and was reduced to living in a tent with my dying DH. Would you?'
I think I may have read TSP after I read Cheryl Strayed's Wild, where she's very upfront about her own heroin use, chronic infidelities etc before she starts her walk, and there are some really difficult scenes like the botched shooting of her mother's horse and missing her death etc. So it may be that I was approaching TSP in the same light?