On May 15, 2015, my dad died. I was a week away from graduating high school, and he was on his way home to see me. I remember everything so clearly, but at the same time, I felt completely numb to the world. Nothing anyone could say would have made me feel better. People tell you over and over the things will get better, or that one day it won’t hurt as bad. The hardest thing I’ve ever done was going to his grave after graduation, and sitting there with my diploma in my hands wishing he could see it. For those first two weeks, I was mad. I was angry at God for taking him from me, mad at myself for not spending enough time with him, mad that no one could understand what I was feeling, and I was mad the world for being so cruel. Then I was confused. The next two weeks I questioned everything. How do I move on from this? Do I want to move on from this? How can I be happy? Why couldn’t he just have seen me graduate? I was filled with questions no one could answer. That last week I was horribly depressed. I was not sad anymore; I was depressed. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, and nothing seemed hopeful. For the next couple of weeks, I had decided I would never be able to find happiness.
I woke up one morning, and I realized something. I was just going through the motions. I realized I didn’t want to be sad and pissed off anymore. What does questioning the ability to be happy do for me? Nothing. It does absolutely nothing for you. There’s so much in life to enjoy, but you can’t when you’re blinded by anger. If I had gone into freshman year filled with rage, I wouldn’t have met the amazing friends I have. I probably also wouldn’t have cared about my grades or going to class. Or who knows, I may not have even felt the need to go to college. I told myself that I would start choosing to be happy. And it was the best decision I’ve ever made.
You can find a reason to be mad every single day, but you will eventually be old and bitter. Finding happiness can be hard, but when I think about it, I know my dad would want me to be happy. My father’s death changed me. It made me thankful for each day I wake up, and I didn’t have that before. I used to wake up each morning and not care about anyone but myself. And all I can tell you is that’s a horrible way to live. I didn’t care how I treated other people or even acknowledge it. In a way death brings clarity. But the pain you go through to get clarity is almost unbearable. Somedays I’ll just be driving home, and a song will come on the radio that makes me think of him. Hearing something like that can either wreck your day or make it. So when that song comes on, I just remind myself to be thankful for what I have. People ask me all the time about how I do it; how I’m so strong. And the truth is I just don’t want to be upset anymore. Those weeks of depression were the worst of my life, and I don’t want to go back to that. I feel like I’m making it sound way easier that it is, but for me, it was a mindset. For all the people out there going through something like this, I have three pieces of advice. First, understand that no one’s opinion matters of how you should grieve. Everyone is different. Second, people are going to tell you it will get better with time. In a way, they are right and wrong. You will get better with time and be able to cope, but some days it will be worse. But the key in that is knowing that you can choose to make every day a bad day, or to make most a good day. After a year had passed, I had a final on the day he died. I could have not tried. But I took all that sadness and turned it into motivation to do better. And that’s my third piece of advice, to never use death as an excuse. We need to learn from losing someone, not take advantage of it. Become stronger, not weaker. I’m not going to lie; it is going to be hard to change your mindset completely. Choosing to be happy was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, but I know my dad is so proud of me for doing it.