Six Months

I am not okay.

Six months ago today by father’s heart abruptly shut down and he died in the front yard of the house I grew up in. My sister was with him. Two of my parent’s neighbors were with him. Eventually the emergency responders were with him.

He died any way.

I talk to him all the time. I tell him  I’m sorry for everything I ever did wrong or anything that may have disappointed him about me. I ask him for advice, I ask him what I should do now. I apologize every day.

I feel like the worst daughter in the world and I don’t even know why.

My father and I were always close. He was loving and caring and I was extraordinarily lucky to have him as a dad.

Some mornings I wake up crying and I don’t know why. I mean, I suppose I know why, my dad’s gone, but there was nothing to set it off. I’m just alone, crying, not wanting to wake anyone up because no one really wants to talk about this.

I get so angry at everyone around me because everyone is treating me like I’m okay. I am not okay. I don’t know how I should be behaving to make people understand. Should I be drinking more? Crying more? Should my behavior be erratic and out of the norm? Should I not be going to work and living my life?

I don’t know what to do. Every time someone says to me they’re here if I need to talk I wan’t to scream and throw something. I want to smash everything in the room until I’m surrounded by objects as broken as how I feel.

Obviously I want to talk. I brought this to you. I’m telling you I don’t feel good. Of course I want to talk. But no one wants to talk to me. I am making everyone uncomfortable.

So I sit here and I write

and I cry into my coffee

and I stare at photos of my dad

and I wonder if it’s possible to just be alone forever.

2 thoughts on “Six Months

  1. The Dead Dad Club is a sucky thing to belong to, but at least there are other members out there if you need to talk to someone who “gets” it a little better. Like me. Sometimes talking to a stranger can be helpful.

    Like

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