This has been the toughest blog entry that I have had to write. This is something like the 6th different attempt at writing this chapter of my life for you. I really don't know what to say anymore. So, I am going to do my best to put this one together just so I can hopefully move forward. What I can promise you is that there is nothing uplifting about this entry.
As many of you know my father died 4 weeks ago. Since then I haven't been right in any sense of the word. His death, while sudden, was something I was trying to prepare myself for because he was diagnosed with an advanced stage of throat cancer. While his oncologist was confident in his chances, I saw him as weak and frail, and I wasn't as confident. Fortunately, he didn't have to suffer through a long drawn out cancer treatment as he died from Sepsis following an unrelated surgery. As I sit here typing these words for you, it still seems a bit surreal that he is gone. It almost feels like he's just been gone on a long vacation and that he's expected back anytime. There is certainly an emptiness here in the house that is the constant reminder that he is gone.
I am not going to share my feelings or memories of my father for they are my own. Those of you have crossed paths with him know what he was like and I hope he was good to you.
I think, generally speaking, that I am emotionally fine with his passing now. The week or two following I was mostly angry, and I was quite concerned with my ability to control it. I nearly lost control of it on my way to the gym when a 5 mpg tank was riding my bumper in the passing lane when I was 4th in a line of cars passing in that lane. It took pretty much all of my inner strength to stop myself from slamming both feet on my brake pedal and bracing for impact. I was having a difficult time understanding why the surgery was necessary at this time. He was already weak from the cancer and his first chemo treatment. The surgery was to repair a spinal stroke which from the information I was given wasn't something that was life threatening. Why not wait until he had beaten the cancer and was strong enough to fight an infection if it occurred? I spent many quiet hours (I typically get real quiet when I am angered) those next weeks.
Probably the most difficult thing to deal with that has arisen from this god-awful experience is the loneliness I feel. All I could think about sitting in that cold hospital room was how I wish I had someone there to hold me together, someone to hold onto and assure me that it will be alright. Those of you who have significant others, I hope you realize how fortunate you are to have that in your lives and that you thank that person regularly. I have felt empty since that day and it seems like that feeling is growing. There is so much that could be said about how unhappy I have been. Even when I seem happy when I'm out and about with some of you, I'm not really there. Its been nearly a year that I have felt genuinely happy and that is far to long for anyone. Sadly, I had a dream this week where I felt that warmth of happiness, but when I woke it only furthered the misery as the content of that dream is something that will definitely never happen. I also found it extremely annoying to need a dream to feel happiness.
As a result, my diet has gone to hell. I am back over 270 and I am scared to even step on a scale at this point because I just don't need that negative moment to compound my problems. I am getting to the gym regularly and working out as hard as normal. I've manage to finally recover from the concussion and have gotten my fitness back. I am back to feeling strong in Spin class, but I have lost complete control of my eating. There is no real sensible explanation for it. I know how horrible the foods I am eating are for me, and I know I shouldn't be eating them. I'm not even sure that I am enjoying them because of the sense of guilt that comes with doing something which you know is so horribly bad for you. The fact that my dad died is not a viable excuse to behave this way.
Everywhere I turn it seems like something reminds me of my gloom. Stupid things like: traffic on my way to work has been rerouted due to construction and it brings me past my original home in Topton, seeing those stick figure families on back windows reminds me of this girl's FB page where she had her family on it and I often wonder what my stick guy would look like, music, etc.
So continues the worst year ever.
