A good cry

A good cry is hard to come by. Now that it's here, all I feel is anger. I'm beyond angry that other people get sympathies for a lost grandparent. I sit and wonder why. Yet it is my own grief that is asking that question. It is my own anger that blocks my ability to have compassion. And it is my grief that I have to deal with. And it is the loneliest condition i've ever faced. There is NO ONE that can make this better. There is no one who can truly comfort me. And yet that is all I want, I want someone to tell me it's okay you'll make it through this. Though if you were to tell me I'm not sure I would believe you. When I feel the pain is like a deep well of every emotion you can imagine overflowing. Uncontainable and a gnawing pain, a sickness. It feels horrible. I don't want to grieve I want my father back. That's what I want. You want to know what I want for my birthday I want my father back. I want to be able to see him one more time, just have one more conversation. And because I can't have that, because he's dead and I don't know how to bring him back. Instead I'm left living in a world that I want to constantly escape from, that there is no remedy for. There is no comfort. And I'm forced to do it on my own. For no one truly understands the nightmare. No one truly understands that every day I relive that day. I hear my mother's voice, I hear my brother's voice. I hear dear friends shocked reactions that didn't register. I remember the plane ride and the moment the tears began to flow. It is a nightmare every day. I don't know how to come to terms with something this big. How can you ever? How can you move on with your life? It's sheer willpower that I'm living my life.
Had an experience in class last week... a woman I barely know said "How are you still doing this program?" I looked at her and quite frankly I had no answer. I don't know. But quite frankly I'm not sure how much longer I can do it. I feel like my whole world is falling to pieces around me. Electronics being broken only be my lack of ability to multitask. Everything feels like it's going to explode. I'm so angry I don't even know where to start. I think it's sheer fucking willpower that I'm able to keep on trucking. But I'm not sure I want to anymore. I want to crawl under the covers and sleep and cry for a week or more like a year. And perhaps after that I'd feel as though I could face the world. But I don't have that I have tonight to vent to the interweb space of the world. And world I am fucking angry that the universe took my dad away. He was my everything. My world. He was my hero. And damn it I want to go skiing with him. I want him to call me. And I'm sorry if I just have no compassion if your grandparents die, but I don't. I don't care, not in the sense that I have no heart. I do not have the capacity to care if you lost someone in the natural cycle of life. Take a minute and sit in my shoes, I'll tell you, you won't to for long. If you sit in them then tell me it's not okay for me to be angry, and not care. Perhaps actually for me in this moment it's totally okay. But really I'm not just pissed my dad is gone and that I have to keep going. That world goes on like everything is okay. Well I am not. And yet my willpower is so strong that I'm able to keep trucking through but I think I need more spontaneous cries to let all this steam out it's killing me.

Remberance of 9/11

It strikes me with such sadness to listen to the voices of 9/11. In some ways it feels as if I can relate so more deeply to their experience even if my father wasn't killed by a building that someone crashed a plane to. But I remember ALL my thoughts and actions both the day 9/11 happened and the day my father died. It has such an impact, it's written across everything I do. One woman said "You do not recover from it you heal, but you remember always, there is always a void". This is difficult to come to grips with as I desperately want to heal, I want to recover, I want my life. But I will never be able to fill the void, I will become more comfortable with it over time. There is no replacing the man who raised me, who stood by me always when milestones occur. Only my father can walk me down the aisle. Only my father could do so many things. And it is in that, that causes me to feel as though life has ended. In the scariest way I fear returning to a place of deep darkness, of feeling the depth of this sorrow. And I truly don't think anyone can fully understand that. Saying I'm doing great is so superficial to me. I won't be doing great for a long time. And all I can sit with is today is wow, I called him that day. I don't remember what he said, but I remember it was comforting. I remember sitting on the stairs in the dorm hallway. The first day of classes. I called my parents it would have never occurred to me the possibility that 10 years later he would gone. Life is so short, I just haven't figured out how to let go. How do I live his legacy? How do I now comfort people in tragedy? How do I share his love when it hurts so much to acknowledge it. One day Dad, the light is going to shine through the deep darkness your passing has left. Perhaps it already is and I just can't find it today. Love you always.