Life....

Last November, after three short weeks, my father passed away. He had a stroke, after a regulatory surgery. Diabetes ...killed him.

Months later, I still haven't really gotten through it. I have been invited back to graduate school (on conditional acceptance again), I have gotten a great job, lost it, and have moved out of my mother's house and into one of my best friend's houses. I believe that a lot of my struggle has happened because of my father, and my struggle in living without him.

Of course, they say you're never without the ones you lose, regardless of whether or not there is a heaven, you see the person in yourself through your personality and such, which is true. The truth, however, is that I can't really talk to myself, the way I talk to my father. I can't argue with myself, the way I did with my dad. I can't hug myself, I can't do all those things and more.

I feel like something in me, died along with him, that I can never get back. There's a permanent hole in my heart that I can't seem to fill.

About the only thing I can think of that has happened in the last month or so that I can really feel good about, is that I have found support in my friends, as well as the boyfriend I have most recently started dating. He's definitely someone I can call a special part of my life. I only hope, he lasts longer than the last few have. I honestly can say I am a little scared of this relationship, because I haven't been a publicly known "girlfriend" (yeah never mind what that means if you don't understand completely) in over a year, and I haven't been one in this fashion in about three years, so I have almost forgotten what it's like to even think of someone else on a daily, or even weekly basis. Then again, he seems very confident that I will make him happy, and thus far, he's made me very happy as well.

I think, my biggest fear, is that the depression obtained from my father's death, will keep affecting my relationships with people around me. I have usually been able to handle this in the past, but it's different when the deceased is a parent. It's something that someone in their early 20's should not yet experience. It's something that is not expected before a woman is married, before she has children. I have great jealousy towards my sister, because she has the memories of my father walking her down the aisle, holding her children, and being a grandfather to them. MY children, if they look anything like me, will also look like my father. I will not get to see the look on his face, when holding his grandchild, that strangely resembles him. I will not be able to experience the famous father/daughter dance, that I had dreamed of as a little girl.

I feel like I wasted a lot of time, worrying about that day when I was 11. I wasted time not forgiving him and moving on, being mad at him. I wasted time, waiting until I was an adult to understand his perspective. I wasted time, not telling him how I felt, even when he asked for forgiveness. By the time I told him the truth of my fears, it was just two days later that he had the stroke. Thinking about it makes me cry, even today. I don't get this way a lot, it used to be daily. Just after the funeral, it seemed like there wasn't a day that went by where I wasn't thinking of him, crying over him, mourning his death, grieving my loss. Now, I can go weeks without really feeling like I am depressed. The problem, is that when this feeling comes into action, I can't really stop it. Nothing really seems to bring it on, beyond...memories.

I still hear his voice very crisp in my mind. For awhile, shortly after the funeral, I even felt like I was seeing him. I would think he's there in my dreams, and have to double take people when I was awake. I felt very...not normal.

Now, whenever I hear Beethoven, I cry...whenever I think of politics, part of me aches inside, as much as I still love it. Whenever I argue politics with my "extreme" friends (libertarians) I feel a slight queasiness in my stomach, from the pain of losing my father.

I wake up everyday, and look in the mirror. I stare at the 3/4ths of my face that is my father. If I look too long, I start to see the old man in the hospital bed, the one I saw every day for three weeks, the one that would keep putting up the big fight, and the one that eventually I found myself crying on that early morning of November 12th, 2008.

I miss him, and I am really not sure how to handle this, when to handle this, who to handle this with, or when I can stop handling this. I wish there was more I could say, more I could do....

Dad...I miss you...

Hardly An Introduction

I really don't know what to say, beyond the fact that my life has been anything but normal in the past few months. Beyond losing a relationship, a job, and my place at the University of Missouri-Columbia, I've also gained a great deal. Most of what I've gained, is experience. Experience in dealing with whatever life gives me, and experience with taking life one day at a time, rather than constantly planning for a future and not living in the present.

This is the lesson I've needed to learn. My ex always told me to live every day one at a time. I never really understood how he could not plan his life, until now. I realize that it's not about not planning, but rather it is about not confirming your plans. You hope that things will go the way you plan, but if they don't, you have something, some way of a back up, and if the back up falls through...you deal. My plan was to graduate college, go to graduate school, and be out by May of 2009, finally ready to grasp the real world. That plan was rudely interrupted when the Truman School of Public Affairs at University of Missouri-Columbia told me that my academic career within their department was over, a year premature.

I went through somewhat of a depression for months. Luckily I had George, my supervisor at my internship, help me with this. He gave me guidance and assured me that, indeed, my life was not over. I would make it through, and should not give up. He told me of the programs at the University of Missouri-St. Louis and Southern Illinois University Edwardsville. Through his guidance, and many nights staying up late and pondering over my life, I determined that my life was not over.

I do sometimes fall into a depression about the way my life is, but no longer is it about school. I know what I'm doing with that. Now a days it is more of a depression that comes about when I look at my living situation, my money, and my lack of friends here in St. Louis. You see, most of my friends have moved away in the 5 years that I have been off at school. The economy is down, getting a job is harder than ever, and I have two degrees that mean just about crap without experience. But, nonetheless I am working as hard as I can to get one. Now that my internship is over, my full time job is unemployment, meaning that I have all the time in the world to look.

I have applied basically everywhere, and I'm scheduled to go to a few job fairs. Until I get a decent enough job to move out, I have been hired by a temp agency to do, basically any desk job they can give me. I signed up with them a month ago, but they didn't hire me for anything, because my internship with the City of Rock Hill, Missouri took up too much time. I gave them a call today (and will again on Monday) to assure them that my schedule has opened up, and I am available for whatever they can give me.

At this point, I just need to pay my bills.

Attention: There is Road Construction on Highway Life. Next to the Construction, there is a female HOBO on the side of the road... her name is Angela.. she is holding a sign saying "Down on Luck, Please Hire Me"