My father passed away suddenly and unexpectedly Friday morning. It’s… been a process these last few days to come to terms with the fact my father, at only 58, is dead. I have this bursts of crying every day, and a sense of loss and guilt (I didn’t tell him I loved him the last time I saw him, I was in a hurry for a date I was going on). I hope he knows that, despite the alcoholism and abuse, he was my father and I loved him, as difficult and screwed up as it could sometimes be.
My psychiatrist put me on Ativan for my insomnia that’s increased since my dad’s passing, and the panic attacks, and he was awesome to prescribe me Zofran for the nausea I’ve been getting from my Norco.
But… my dad… the one who called me Tinker my entire life… is gone. And it’s a painful, hard thing to cope with.
Published on September 27, 2016 21:59