I couldn’t bring myself to post about it yesterday. Facebook reminded me midday and I just broke down sobbing. This time last year, my dad had all of us (his children) come down so that he could break the news to us. His doctors couldn’t do anything else for him. His heart valve was leaking. He was accumulating water in his chest. Things just weren’t good. He had been going into the hospital quite a bit already at this point.
My SO went with me. This was such a hard trip. I hadn’t seen my Dad since Christmas 2019. COVID was still a problem. It was nice to have a small family reunion, but the reason behind it was heartbreaking. And the journey home was torture. I didn’t want to leave. The trip home was long. We hadn’t slept good the entire time there. Our hotel was not in a great area nor was the bed very good. I had no A/C in my vehicle and ended up pulling over every few hours to cry. What normally should be a 7-8 hour trip, turned into … I’m not quite sure. I think it took us 16 hours in total to get home? My SO was a saint. He held my hand and patiently stayed with me while I had so many meltdowns.
On top of my normal mental health issues, the grieving process has been incredibly difficult. I never really knew either set of my grandparents so loosing them was sad, but not intensely painful. I think the hardest part for me is the fact that I had been estranged from my Dad was such a large period of my adult life. My parents divorce was messy and emotionally traumatic. Having a relationship with my Dad and by proxy, my Step Mom, felt like a betrayal to my Mother.
I’ve talked about my Dad’s support in the past. He was incredibly understanding of my mental health issues. Throughout all of the time that I wasn’t actively speaking to him, my Dad always made a point to still call me and leave me voice messages. I think that’s what finally tipped me in the direction of talking to him more often. He’s was always telling me he was thinking about me and loved me.
I’m still having a hard time accepting that he’s gone. I know that grief is a normal part of life, but on top of the normal depression, this really sucks. As someone that constantly struggles against the thought of killing themselves, I feel this incredible sense of guilt. I wish that I could have given him years of my life. There were so many people that mourned his death. I have to remind myself that there are people who would miss me. I know that my SO would be sad if I passed away, but there’s a dark part inside of my brain that whispers that he would be happier if I were dead.
The anniversary of my Dad’s passing is coming up next month. The doctors told him he’d have longer when he left the hospital the last time, but passed away barely days after his release. I still don’t know what I’ll do when the date comes around again. I’ll probably talk to my therapist a bit about this, but until then … I’m just hanging in there.
Sorry for another depressing post, guys.
Thanks for reading!