I know I said yesterday that I had to live my life. I told my dad I can handle this. But I can’t function right now. I don’t know if it’s grief, depression, my dad, bipolar, having to listen to Blue’s Clues or all of the above. I keep thinking about my dad laying on the floor – I know I’m not the one who found him. I feel sorry for my brother for having to be in that situation. None of this is fair. I know life never is. For whatever reason, I don’t understand why life whittles me down to nothing. There are people depending on me and I can’t even get out of my pjs. I can’t make a list for the grocery store. I can’t get my ass up to do my laundry. I can’t have a really good cry. I just can’t.
My husband, who lost his father over 4 years ago, told me this morning that there are going to be some rough times, especially in the first year, but it gets easier. I don’t think I doubt that he’s right. I mean, I guess I know he is. But it’s hard to believe at this moment. It’s been just a week and I’ve accomplished shit. I guess it’s acceptable considering what has happened, but this is nothing new. I was once motivated to do things like my dad was. I don’t know what happened to me. I can’t pinpoint when it changed. It’s been a while though.
I know I’m not my dad. But I am a product of him. He taught me over the years about hard work (so has my mum). As I’m writing this, I’m starting to feel the conviction again. Maybe this is what I need to do to get through my days – to write. Even if it is all over the map. Maybe I should cut out here while I’m still feeling this way. I sorta talked myself into motivation. Is that possible?
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