Trigger Warning: I recently lost my Father so this post may get emotional and be triggering for people that are still in mourning, bereavement and so on.

F*ck 2016.
Seriously. I had such a positive outlook for this year and it seems like every time things are going well I get hit with a curve ball. The past couple of years have been challenging but 2016 is really the year that I feel is testing me and taking me to my limit. I am at my breaking point and each time I really want to give up someone comes to me and says something positive, loving and/or encouraging.

I went into 2016 with health and and other personal issues – I got through them the best I could. I felt lost and unsure on so many occasions but things slowly started getting better. I was feeling happy and healthy but over the summer I suffered a serious allergic reaction which sent me to the hospital for 3 days while they monitored me. I now have certain foods I have to avoid and will have to carry an Epi Pen with me for the rest of my life.

Soon after my hospital stay, my Aunt fell ill and ended up in the hospital. She suffered several heart attacks and passed away. I was thousands of miles away and I felt so guilty and frustrated because I wasn’t able to be there to tell her I love her and be with my family. I still have days I reach for the phone to call her only to remember that she is no longer there.

I thought that would be where the struggle and pain of this year would taper off. I was wrong.

Early in October I called my Dad and he told me that he wasn’t feeling well – he thought he had the flu. He apologized for cutting our call short. We exchanged our “I love you’s” and little did I know that would be my last time hearing his voice.

Soon after our last conversation he ended up in the hospital for pneumonia and ended up being put in a medically-induced coma so he could be intubated. Awhile later he seemed to be doing better – tube was taken out and he was moved out of ICU. Within two days he had a heart attack and was intubated again. My Mom worked some magic so that I could come to Georgia and be with him and my family. I thought he would kick this.

He had a total of 3 heart attacks and some seizures. There was too much damage done to his brain and things looked grim. I tried to remain positive and present but I would just cry randomly and my sleep schedule continues to suffer. Once I had the courage to ask the prognosis I knew that even if he was taken off the machines and could breath on his own – he would not be the same person we all knew and loved.

He was removed from life support on a Friday, moved to a Hospice facility on a Saturday and passed away on Sunday, October 30, 2016.

Living Through Loss

It has been a week since I stood in that ICU room while they removed the breathing tube and this weekend we are holding a memorial service for him. Anything that reminds me of him either makes me cry or makes my heart ache – sometimes both at the same time.

I want to sleep because maybe this is just a horrible nightmare yet fear, hurt, resentment and guilt fill my thoughts in the quiet of the night. Why couldn’t I be here sooner? Did he really know how much I loved him? I only eventually sleep because my body just cant take it anymore so it shuts down.

Depression and anxiety constantly knock at my door.

I feel like I am at one place in time and the entire world is just passing me by. I forget what day it is often – days turn to nights right before my eyes. I enjoy time with family but when I am not “busy” I get overwhelmed with grief. I’m an emotional eater yet I let my body feel empty. I feel lost and confused.

I told a friend that reached out to me with comforting words that I feel like I am about to crack open and end up in a dark place. He assured me that I am stronger than I know and if I “go there” I will find my way back out. I have so many wonderful friends and family members – as well as strangers that have reached out to me. I really feel like this support is what has kept me going because there are so many times I just want to give up.

I constantly tell myself that I can get through this. That I am a strong person. I can hear my Dads voice saying “don’t worry suga” – it is reassuring yet hurts at the same time.

This is what it is like living through loss.

Click here to donate to my bereavement fund