I went to bed without setting an alarm last night, even though I knew I had to get up. I had an obligation that I just skipped out on without telling anyone about it. I felt bad for a minute or two, but I got over that pretty quick. ‘They’ll understand,’ I told myself. They don’t even know if I’m in town or not. But here I am feeling bad about it. And I don’t feel bad for taking care of myself, but I feel bad about letting someone down. I’m taking advantage of the fact that dad died. I’m using it as an excuse. Is that what people do? Is that part of the grieving process?
I laid in bed this morning with images of the family sitting and standing around his bed. I remember how hard I cried, clinching my fists until my nails nearly broke the skin of my palms. I remember seeing my dad unconscious. I remember the effects of the ammonia buildup in his brain. I was going through all of the imagry in my head and not one tear streamed down my face. What do I have to do to believe he’s actually gone? When will become apparent? I want to speak to him. I have that urge. I KNOW he’s gone, but there’s some defense mechanism at work inside me. It won’t let me feel it.
I was out last night with a friend who also lost their father. And all I could think about was asking him if he went through these same emotions. I don’t feel like a robot until I start thinking about my dad. I can have a good time, but then it hit me… I was watching something on TV and I remember feeling sad for a brief moment. Then it went away. It got pushed down just like my sadness did when I was taking care of dad. How long is this going to last. It’s like someone’s lacing my water with Zoloft or something. I want to feel again. I want to bawl my eyes out.