I am going to put this warning out here real quick. This is not a happy post like most of my other posts but this post will be the most honest thing you’ll get from me. What I am about to write about I haven’t really spoken to people about but I know some people in my life have taken notice.
As you all know, my Dad passed away about nine months ago. People have told me that grieving for someone will get easier in time. So far I have to say that is a load of bull. I know I am not as withdrawn as I was when I first came back from his funeral. I am trying to make an effort to be more social and to be like I was before he died but honestly I feel like its all a farce. I try to stay happy (like I feel people expect me to be) but so many things make me think of my dad and make me miss him. I feel like when I am out with people I can’t cry or shouldn’t cry because who wants to hang out with a weeping woman. Sometimes I feel like I just want to stay home and not go out but I don’t want to become a hermit. When I am home alone though, I cry often. I cry at least 1 or 2 times a day when I am trying to work on blog stuff or editing photos. I so badly want to tell him about the things I am seeing, doing, experiencing but I know I will never get that chance again. I put Netflix or Hulu on while I work so I have talking in the background so I don’t feel so alone but every show makes me think of him it seems like. If I try to not think of him, the wave of emotion seems to harder than if I take each small wave and not ignore them.
I miss talking to him. I miss asking for advice or asking how to cook something. I wish I could talk to him about how far Jeremy’s cooking has come since I met him and I know that a lot of his growth has come from things that my Dad taught him. I wish Jeremy had had the chance to learn more.
Sometimes I regret coming to Japan. Part me feels like I abandon my family to come here. Had I not come I would have had almost 5 more months with him. I regret not going home when he was in the hospital. I wish I didn’t know that he died while wanting to see me one more time. I wish I had called him that night after class to tell him I had learned why the Japanese make a peace sign when they take photos. I thought it was too early in the morning his time to call him, so I put it off, thinking I could call him in the morning like I usually did. I found out later he was already awake and doing his morning routine when I had left class. I wouldn’t have woken him up if I had called. I regret not telling him more often how much I appreciated everything he did for me, our family, and everyone he met.
My Dad’s last words to me were a text message telling to tell Jeremy that they were proud of him and that he hoped Jeremy had a good Veteran’s Day. Some days I’m jealous that his last words were meant for Jeremy and not me. Other days I’m happy to know that I finally married a man that my Dad approved of.
For the past few nights I have been dreaming of my Dad. I wake up with mixed feelings of happiness to have talked to him in some sort of way and sadness because it feels like goodbye again. I don’t remember much of the dreams. Usually I just remember him sitting in a orange/ peach color t-shirt with his propped up on on his cane. His hair is longer than it was when he died and more silver than white.
I have tried talking to a therapist here on base. He said I had situational depression but was more interested in solving my weird not sleeping/ sleeping too much pattern than help me deal with my emotions. He spent the whole time discussing my sleep habits and rarely talked about my emotional health. I hate the health care here because I feel like if I raise too much fuss about an issue, I’ll be sent home to the States. I don’t want to be sent home because I have no idea where home is now.
Thank you for letting me vent. If anyone feels like this too please feel free to message me. My email is email@example.com,