Tldr; a word vomit dump about current feels
I've been trying to think of a way to articulate my thoughts and inherent moodiness, but as always when it comes to feelings #thestruggleisreal. So. A year ago today, my father had a stroke and it was the beginning of the worst two weeks of my life. I thought I was okay. I thought I wouldn't cry when I realized how close a year was creeping up on me. I thought I wouldn't feel anything as the 15th approached. There's this sad numbness that's echoing through every fiber of my being. An almost tangible melancholy. It's like I feel okay, and then there's just an overwhelming exhaustion. I've slept so much this week because it's easier to sleep than to think. Or feel. Or do anything. I hate getting like this, and I know that it's part of the grief cycle and all that shit I've studied. I logically know accepting this feeling is healthy. But it's still painful when I have moments of, "Dad would have loved this" or say something that reminds me of him. I mean, he was my dad. I've always had a close relationship with my family, but dad understood me in that quiet way of his. And even if he didn't understand or agree with a point, he still made me feel like it was okay to be different. I miss that he could just tell if I was having a day. He'd rub the back of my neck and tell a joke as his way of cheering me up. There's nothing that can replace it, because it was unique to him. I can't even articulate the way it was done or demonstrate because it was just inherently dad. And it's gone. Like him. So. That's where my head is for the next two weeks. I can't help but think of things that happened during that time. That I couldn't give my dad one last hoorah for his and my favorite holiday. That I had to be mean to him and force him to take medicine he didn't want because he was suffering. That everything broke around me and I couldn't fix it, merely pick up all the pieces. This isn't an invitation to talk about it. I'm not good at verbalizing what's going on up here in the noggin. In a way, I've always been better at writing than speaking. And it's not that I'm making an excuse, I guess I just thought an explanation was in order. If I want to talk, I'll talk. But I'm better at dealing with stuff like this on my own. I know that there are people I love who I can go to when I need them. But sometimes it's easier to just let it pass. And this too shall pass. Eventually. Also if you read all the way through this then Godspeed bc word vomit.