December 6, 2020
Today is 6 months.
Today has been hard. This week has been dark and heavy. Probably the heaviest I've had in a while--and it's been real heavy these days.
I read somewhere online this week that the irony of grief is that the person you'd talk to about what's going on is the one who isn't here. Oh how true that is.
I know that I could talk to my dad about what is going on and how I am feeling. But he's not here.
It's not that I can't talk to my mom or siblings--they are going through it too. There's a weird tension in grief where you don't want to talk to the people who are on the journey with you because you don't know where they are. Are they having a good day and you'll just bring them down? Are they having a hard day and you'll just make it harder?
Everyone walks grief so differently.
I cry...what feels like all the time. I also live in my thoughts. Anxiety has been out of control. And wanting to get it under control when you can't or don't know how just brings more anxiety.
It's a tangled journey. One that as I move forward through each day sometimes finds more knots in the rope. Will it ever come untangled?
It is hard to really comprehend six months without dad. I've gone longer without seeing him before but not this long with out actually talking to him. Sometimes I think I'm okay, and other times I'm just thankful to be able to get out of bed.
There's not an expiration date on grief. As a perfectionist, type A...I need a timeline. I need to know how much longer I have to go. I need to know the number of steps I need to get out of the tunnel. But there's no rushing this journey. There are things that help, but the journey will be as long as I need.
Today I just want to wish it all away.
