The first few weeks were a blur. I think I was in shock the whole first month, actually. I didn't have my first break down until the month anniversary of my dad's death. I didn't want to get out of bed, and I still have days like that. Most of the time the sadness comes out of the blue. One minute, I'll be fine, and then the next minute I'm a total mess. Sure, in the beginning, people tried to predict what I'd be feeling. They told me that it's OK to feel however I was feeling, and that it's all "part of the grieving process." However, there are feelings and experiences that I've had that nobody knows about, that nobody predicted for me. I'd like to share a few of those things with you.
1. I started to resent people who have two parents.
It'll be in the supermarket, or on the beach, within the family or even people in the neighborhood who I barely know. Whenever I see a happy family with a mom, a dad, and a few kids, I get annoyed. I feel jealous that those kids get to wake up every day and see their dad, and I don't. I know it's crazy and I'm being selfish. I was lucky enough to have just 19 years and 26 days with my Dad. But I wanted more time with him.
2. I feel like no "good day" is ever good enough.
Since my dad passed away, I've had a ton of bad days. However, I've also had some good ones. No matter how good they are, though, I feel like they're never good enough. I've been told by my shrink, my family, my friends, that I shouldn't feel guilty for having a good day and forgetting about what happened for a while. It's not that I feel guilty, though, because I know my dad would want me to be happy. It's just that I feel like no good day will ever be able to measure up to a day that I spent with my dad before he left me.
3. I get extremely angry when I see kids bad-mouthing their parents.
Just the other day on the beach, I saw a teenager, probably two years younger than me with her dad. She was complaining that, "She didn't want to go to this beach, she likes her beach better." I wanted to run over to this girl and explain to her what happened to me and let her know that if I had one more minute with my dad, let alone get to go to the beach with him again, I'd be so happy that you'd think I won the lottery. I've gained perspective on how precious time is ever since I lost my father and I wish I knew then what I know now.
4. I feel like nobody can relate to me.
Everyone tries to be sympathetic. My family and friends do their best to make sure I'm OK, and I thank God that I have the best support system out there. However, I feel like nobody will ever be able to relate, no matter how hard they try to. I have friends that have lost a parent, and they've gone through the same thing that I'm going through, but everyone's experience is different. Sometimes I feel like I'm alone, even though I have a million people around me that have my back through everything.
Nothing anyone does or says will ever bring my Dad back. There's a ton of people around me waiting to catch me when I fall, and I'm thankful for those people. I know that everyone is trying to help me get through this, but I wish there was some kind of manual that explains how to. I feel like every day is a big blur. I still dial my dad's cell phone number at night, expecting him to pick up and for this all to be one big nightmare. It's been two months, so I know deep down that will never happen, but I wish so badly that it could.
Something happens when you lose a parent. You change. Your outlook on life in general changes. You start to see the world differently and appreciate people differently. Some of the things I've shared, I'm sure nobody would've expected to happen, but they did. None of them were a part of people's "grieving process" they predicted I'd go through. I'm not sure if I'll feel this way forever, or if it's just a phase. All I'm saying is that there are things nobody tells you about losing a parent. Some things you have to find out and work through on your own.
