emptyinside

Aw, thank you, but I've ceased communication today with him. I don't think anyone can speak logically to him. His seller account was suspended for some reason (I didn't report him), and he demanded I mail the item back first at my expense, which I will not do. Don't trust him to refund me, and mailing him the item will cost roughly the item's cost anyway. What a mess. Then he started with the mail-it-back-or-God-will-punish-you spiel, that I'm a troublemaker for him, that the item is probably in perfect shape and I lied (even though I have pictures of the broken item). I know this is a little snafu that eventually happens to everyone who buys online for a long time, but I feel I'm a target for the mean ones or something. Why do they have to go there? Why can't they just keep it calm? I hate to admit it, but it's playing with my emotions and fears. Argh...then I also think of someone who told me that since my dad isn't Christian, God won't save my dad. She said my dad has to totally accept Christ into his heart or else his condition will worsen. What if that's what angered God and made him take him away? But then what about the Hindus of the world, the Muslims, the Buddhists. I'm giving myself a headache.

Thank you so much, Boo Mayhew. You are so nice! Another reason his comment stuck in my head is because 99% of the time I don't get into confrontations. I'm usually a very nice person, and I really try to avoid fights or confrontation (which might be a bad thing sometimes, but...). So his e-mail really surprised me. He was just so angry at me and threatening. So I remember it, even though it must have been four or five years ago. And I guess I'd never been threatened with stuff like that before, save for my mom saying to me when I was a kid, "Do this/Say sorry or God will punish you." And I worry about myself. I have a lot of anger and bitterness inside of me that weren't there before. I don't want to be angry and bitter, but I can't shake the feeling. I'm so angry at the doctors, the hospital itself, people who still have their dads and don't appreciate them. It's so foreign to me, and I don't like it. Hate, to me, is like a poison, and I wonder if God will indeed punish me for harboring it in my heart. I'm not even sure if I believe in God anymore, but the fear is still there. I'm so insecure and superstitious these days, while still questioning my faith. I know logically that there will not be an answer as to why this happened, but my heart hurts and continues to try to figure out why...was my dad sinful and punished? Was I sinful and punished? I can't get the comments out of my mind today.

I'm feeling down today, and my mind has fixated on something that happened a few years ago. I'd ordered something off an independent seller from Amazon. Weeks went by and the item never came. The seller eventually refunded, and I left a less-than-perfect rating (not too bad, though, just stated the facts), noting that the item never arrived but it was refunded. It was probably mean of me at the time, given that he did refund me, but I was frustrated because I had needed the item. The seller sent me an irate e-mail, telling me off, saying I should have left him a perfect rating because he refunded me, that I probably did get it, that I wanted something for free, that I was a liar, etc., and then he wrote, "Good luck in life, God will punish you for this." My mind's fixating this on this today. Is that why my dad was taken away? Maybe I'm being punished for taking a bit of revenge on the seller by not leaving a perfect rating. I didn't think I was being mean at the time, though. I see lots of people leave honest ratings like I did. Anyway, I'm wondering if this is karma and I brought this bad luck upon myself, am being punished, etc. I'm kind of scared because I just ordered something online, and the item came broken and significantly not as described, with the seller refusing to refund me, even though I was extremely polite. This person told me that I'll be punished for causing trouble for him, that he doesn't guarantee items to arrive intact, etc. Anyway, I'm freaking out about another punishment comment. I don't need another death in my family. I know this sounds silly and irrational, but my mind's been wandering lately...still grieving heavily. I'm not all that coherent or logical these days.

I understand your post so much. I feel the same way. Will write more later. Hugs.

I'm so sorry, Jo. Please feel free to rant and rave here. Our prayers are with you.

I feel so lost, like I'm free floating around. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know who I am! How strange and abstract is that? You hear it all the time from people, right? "I went to find myself." I think I am suffering from deep depression and severe insecurity. I question everything in my life now. Are my friends my friends? Is my family family? Do I like this book or not? I bought this shirt last week. Do I like it now or not? Why did I buy it? Am I really alone in life or do I have people who care about me? I'm not sure. Yeah, I have friends who call me, say they love me, but do they really? Can anyone relate? It's such a strange 24/7 feeling! This grief has made me so insecure in every area of my life these days! Should I be talking to a psychologist or a psychiatrist? I've seen therapists, but none on a longterm, permanent basis. I'm thinking maybe I should target the latter because I might need meds, lots of meds...

It is absolute hell. You'd think that the attacks would go away with time! Thank you for sharing.

Thanks, everyone, for your responses. It is always good to know I am not alone. Jenny, I think the idea of letting your mom listen to a couple of calls is a good idea. Could you maybe bring this up to your mom?

Or what feels like panic attacks. In the mornings sometimes I get heavy flashbacks of my dad and I hanging out. And my body feels like it doesn't want to get out of bed. My chest starts feeling very tight, and it's hard to breathe. I try to take deep breaths, but it doesn't lessen the chest tightening. I think it's the idea of having to face yet another day without my dad. It feels like someone's sitting on my chest. Does anyone else get this? Thanks.

Chai, I think you hit it right on the head. I am not the same person without my dad, and I don't know if I can ever get that me back. You know how you can feel so different depending on who's in your company? Like you can feel like the serious and mature you among colleagues, the silly you with your friends, etc. I felt the most all-around me with my dad; it wasn't a temporary skin. He also had interesting takes on subjects, so I was always eager to find out his opinions. We could just talk for hours over a meal, and I could crack jokes and tell stories that were the most me. Even with people I'm close with, it's still not the same feeling as I had with my dad. I'm even not that me with my mom. I was such a chip off the old block. I was happiest when I was chatting with dad about my hopes and dreams and fears. These days I feel like an actress. I haven't been me since I last talked to my dad. I wonder if that old me is gone, then? That idea kind of makes me feel better, for some reason, like it shows the world just how important he was to me. I want my dad back so I can be me again. Until then, I'll just be that actress, I guess, creating a different storyline. Thank you for getting it.

I feel so lonely right now. I have friends and family, but it's not the same at all. I just have no one who fits me conversation-wise like my dad did. He was really into computers and photography like me, so we'd often talk for hours about them -- the latest gadgets, news in the industries, etc. It keeps hitting me more and more that I've no one to talk to like that. My mom, for example, sees no reason why gadgets have to be more than $100 and doesn't understand talking in depth about any of those things. Meanwhile, dad and I would spend hours in stores, researching and drooling. My dad even understood clothes and my interest in them. He knew my style and would sometimes gift me with something that's exactly my taste. Sometimes I'd waver on buying a pair of shoes, and he'd study them and let me know if they were worth the money craftsmanship wise. I have friends and family I can talk about my interests to, but I have to disperse my interests among them; none of them share all of my interests across the field like my dad did. Dad and I could be talking about world news one minute and then switch to a computer accessory the next. So I haven't really talked about my interests since It happened. There just doesn't seem to be a point. I talk about generic topics now. I feel so depleted and listless from not being engaged passionately in conversation. I tried to talk to my mom about something today, but she scoffed and had no idea what I was talking about; she wasn't mean about it, but she just doesn't understand. No one seems to fill that space and that's terrifying what my life will be like now. I miss you, daddy.

I'm sorry, Chai. It's really hard for me, too. In bed crying my eyes out myself!

mlg, you didn't make me feel worse. You made me feel better. I'm glad someone feels the way I do. I feel less alone. Right now all these horrible images of my dad ill are flashing through my head. He was only really bad for about a week or so (the ammonia made him loopy, and he has NEVER been loopy, EVER, in his life, so it scared the crap out of me). After that, he recovered and was mentally perfect. Well, he passed unexpectedly months later, and though he only was strange for a week, and that was relatively a long time ago, I still can't get that out of my head! That one week when he started talking strangely, seeing things, looking possessed. He was the smartest, most educated, most logical person I knew. To see him babbling and saying weird things for a week was very hard, and now it is haunting me day and night, even though his ammonia went down after that and he was back to normal. I can't be myself after seeing him like that. I feel like I have PTSD. My life isn't mine now. I'm a vessel for those horrible images, and I can only put on a stupid show for everyone: yes, I'm okay, blah blah blah. Don't want people to be uncomfortable because, after all, I'm supposed to be over it by now, right? I can't get those images out of my mind. You can say anything, mlg. Thank you.

Do you talk to them, out loud, and pretend they hear you? Do you talk to them in your head? Do you imagine what they'd say back? I am having a bad week, a very bad week. The one person who understands me COMPLETELY and to whom I could say anything and everything isn't here, and now I feel I have to edit myself now when speaking to others. I can't be as myself in this world anymore. I just wish I could have one more talk.

Hugs to both of you.

I'm so sorry for your loss. I've come to the conclusion that God does punish. It's the only explanation for this void and pain I feel without my daddy in this world.

Vicky, I'm so sorry about what happened. Thank you so much for sharing your story in this post. I truly appreciate it that you understand what I am talking about. I'm so sorry. A lot of the things you wrote resonated within me. I am talking to counselors. I feel like a failure on top of this because I can't NOT blame myself. I would love to be able to read all of your words and go, "You guys are right. It's not my fault." Then snap my finger and feel that. But I can't. I can only be honest. I hope you all understand. Chai, I think we're around the same age, but you are handling it so much better than I am. I think you're a stronger, more together person. Usually I am a together person, too, but my one Achilles' heel has taken me down. This was the ONE thing I knew would destroy me. And the fact that I'm not feeling better, even after a few months, has made me feel even worse (I feel so bad I can't post "I'm getting a little better" messages on here). I'm a bad liar. I just tell the truth. I'm just not as good as all of you are, which makes me sadder. MartyT's posting about the end of life process kind of affirms I was extremely negligent. After my dad was moved to a chronic hospital to recuperate because he was getting better and supposedly didn't need the regular hospital (or so the doctors said), I flew back to go to classes, which was an idiotic move. Why? Because he was still skinny, and I didn't know that his absorption and intestines were getting worse. I didn't know that's why his j-tube wasn't helping him gain weight. I thought it was just a very slow process and he'd put on pounds in a few months. Now I know maybe his intestines were shutting down....THAT's why he said he was not hungry. I had assumed he was not hungry because he was getting a lot of nutrition through his j-tube! He was getting 6 or 7 cans of nutritional drinks through his tube a day. I thought that's why he wasn't feeling hungry anymore. I thought that was a sign it was working! But now I read these end of life symptoms and am APPALLED I flew back home when I thought he was recovering. I stupidly trusted his doctors. They said he was getting better. Little did I know his body was actually SHUTTING DOWN? What? He had been very talkative, very alert, just as normal. He looked better. After months by his side in the hospitals, the doctors sent him to a chronic hospital, with conditions that he'd have to come back for follow up appointments and prescription refills and monitoring. So I thought, hey, okay, he'll have to stay a few extra weeks until all his appointments are done, then he'll fly back and I'll be ready to take care of him at home. I didn't know he was SLOWLY dying in the interim. I feel so awful. I don't control the universe, but I believe actions we do on earth do have consequences in our own circles we interact with. Drunk drivers kill people all the time. Mothers of people killed by drunk or reckless drivers sob on camera and demand justice, demand those responsible to be in prison. Many times the drivers did not intend to do it and feel extreme remorse, but they often do have to pay for it by law. I just blame myself because he was my best friend and I was the one he trusted. His death was preventable, and I don't think I can believe it was his time. I see news about little children dying every day. No graduations. No birthday parties. Never to marry. I don't believe it was their time. And I don't believe it was my dad's time. Not everyone dies at the right time. It's something we say to make ourselves feel better, and I've become so cynical I cannot believe it. I dislike sayings of people going to a better place. What's better? Not seeing your kids and spouse? What's better? Seeing people you love dissolve into tears and so much pain? What's "there" that is so better? What's wrong with here? There are a lot of things he desperately wanted to do, and it's not fair he didn't get to do them. My dad was AMAZING and worked so hard and had lots of bad luck. He should at least get a few extra years with those he loved most. It's not fair that I went from a perfectly happy person to a mess who spends her time trying to get better but not being able to, not even a little. Geez, I'm amazed at what a failure I am.

I have a relative's spouse who's a doctor at my father's hospital looking over my dad's medical records to find out exactly what happened to him. I had been following my dad's condition like a hawk, at his beside 24/7 for four months, taking copious notes, asking doctors lots of questions, researching whatever unfamiliar terms the doctors said. This relative told me that his spouse is almost done looking over the records, that there are "diseases" that attacked him and a reason why he was so malnourished. But as far as I know there WERE no diseases aside from the infection I already knew about and his congenital condition we all knew about. Maybe it's lost in translation (this relative doesn't speak English very well). But I'm scared to death...what if there were diseases, and the 15+ doctors who had looked over my dad had missed them in their dozens of blood tests and other examination methods? What diseases??? Could we have prevented them? How did he contract them??? Was it my fault? Maybe I had taken my dad somewhere (we were fond of going to lots of restaurants, amusement parks, etc.) and he contracted diseases in one of the places??? I just asked, just answer me this....was it my fault? Did I kill him? Could it have been prevented? I'm shaking. Scared to death. I already blame myself for not taking the plunge and taking my weakened dad back home sooner, rather than letting him stay in a foreign hospital. I should never have listened to his doctors. I should have taken him back home. I'm so agitated. What if I really did kill him? I can't believe it. The one person I tried most to protect in this world probably died because I was too stupid to not get him better doctors in America. I just blindly listened to his doctors, waiting for him to gain weight and recuperate overseas, letting him go through all his follow-up appointments, instead of just taking the risk and bringing him back to America, where I am 100% positive he'd be taken care of. Then, after he passed, his doctor said, "You should have brought him back to America." HELLO. He TOLD us not to yet!?! He had follow-up appointments with medications to refill. I thought we'd finish off his appointments, wait for him to stabilize for sure, before putting him on a 15 hour flight, you know? I was so scared he'd undergo some emergency mid-flight, especially with the pressure changes, the crowd of people, the germs hanging around. So I stupidly listened to this flip-flopping doctor and NOW I DON'T HAVE MY DAD. I'm so stupid. I mismanaged completely and let my dad down.

Thank you, Leann, for sharing to try to make me feel better. I really appreciate it (and I don't think you're nuts). You are such a good friend, and I'm glad you and your friend could connect like that. I tried to ask my dad to give me a message. While alone in his room, while sobbing so hard I feel like I'm going to throw up, I asked dad, "Daddy, if you're here, please give me a sign? Please knock once on a wall. Or knock somewhere else." Nothing. I've asked other times. I ask if he's okay where he is now, just a knock somewhere? Or make something fall. Anything in this silence? Nothing. So does that mean he's not okay? He's not answering anything! Guys, please, do you think I caused this bad luck to befall him because of this in my other post: Maybe because I broke a deal with God? When my dad was first hospitalized over a year ago, I got down on my hands and knees and prayed for his recovery for a long time. I made deals with God (not sure why I did this; I just felt like God would help me more if I sacrificed something). I thought of my vices. Maybe I shop too much? I'm a classic girl in that sense; I love shopping and nice material things. But I, in no way, judge people superficially. I just like buying nice things. So I told God I wouldn't buy a single thing if He let my dad get through this. My dad DID get through it, but only for a year. During that year, I did go back to buying things. It's like our old life resumed as normal. But I was still completely grateful for God for having saved his life. I prayed to God every night, thanking him for saving my dad, and requesting continued protection for my him (I never asked God for my health; I always wanted my dad to reap the benefits). I keep thinking I broke my deal with God. I was an idiot, settling back into normalcy, so maybe God was punishing me by taking dad? So I DID cause his death. I know it was wrong of me to try to make a deal with God, but since I said it, maybe God took me up on it? So I caused something bad to happen to my dad? I also said I'd go to church every Sunday, which I ended up not doing, for I never had officially joined a church and felt awkward about starting (as in, I didn't know where to start). I did vow to live in utter gratefulness, if that makes sense. I stayed away from anything that might be viewed as negative or full of ill will. If people asked me how my dad was doing, I'd say he's great, thanks to God. But I did break promises to God, right? So he stopped protecting my dad, or decided to take him. I feel so guilty. I am in so much pain I feel like I'm on fire. I'm squirming for some relief. I actually gripped my leg so hard that I bled. I've been doing that unknowingly for a while. I'll look down and go, Wow, I didn't even know I was doing that. I miss him so much and feel I caused this.

I'm sorry you lost your father. And on Easter, too.

Thanks to both of you. I have read into ADC, but I can't help but feel cynical. I'm very familiar with techniques mediums use (at least the bad ones), so I can't help but feel angry at Edward and other popular mediums (especially ones that make regular appearances on Entertainment Tonight). I'm not shutting out the possibility, but I have yet to find one I think is real, if that exists. I would love any recommendations - has anyone seen a medium and felt the person was very good? And I feel cynical about signs, too. Maybe because I know too much about how the mind works. Like seeing a butterfly and interpreting that as my dad. I'd love for that to be true, but another voice in my head says, "You idiot. You want that to be your dad. Never mind that you've probably had a million butterflies before, but you weren't looking for them." I just beat myself up in my head. I just want some sign that's not subtle, that can't be anything else. I just went through an awful crying jag. Full on sobs. I just keep remembering this time last year I was eating at one of our favorite restaurants. The memory hit me like a sledgehammer. It seems like yesterday. I have a vivid memory, which is a curse in this case. I snapped out of it, looked around me, and was truly surprised...how could he not be here? He was JUST here. The memory was clearer than even my day yesterday. It just baffles me how he's not here, not when I just had dinner with him a minute ago, a dinner I remember so clearly. I even remember the wall decorations and the way my dad's hand held his glass. I don't get it. How can he not be here? Why did this have to happen? Maybe because I broke a deal with God? When my dad was first hospitalized over a year ago, I got down on my hands and knees and prayed for his recovery for a long time. I made deals with God (not sure why I did this; I just felt like God would help me more if I sacrificed something). I thought of my vices. Maybe I shop too much? I'm a classic girl in that sense; I love shopping and nice material things. But I, in no way, judge people superficially. I just like buying nice things. So I told God I wouldn't buy a single thing if He let my dad get through this. My dad DID get through it, but only for a year. During that year, I did go back to buying things. It's like our old life resumed as normal. But I was still completely grateful for God for having saved his life. I prayed to God every night, thanking him for saving my dad, and requesting continued protection for my him (I never asked God for my health; I always wanted my dad to reap the benefits). I keep thinking I broke my deal with God. I was an idiot, settling back into normalcy, so maybe God was punishing me by taking dad? So I DID cause his death. I know it was wrong of me to try to make a deal with God, but since I said it, maybe God took me up on it? So I caused something bad to happen to my dad? I also said I'd go to church every Sunday, which I ended up not doing, for I never had officially joined a church and felt awkward about starting (as in, I didn't know where to start). I did vow to live in utter gratefulness, if that makes sense. I stayed away from anything that might be viewed as negative or full of ill will. If people asked me how my dad was doing, I'd say he's great, thanks to God. But I did break promises to God, right? So he stopped protecting my dad, or decided to take him. I feel so guilty.

I need to speak to my dad so badly; I just don't know what to do with myself. I feel I can't go on. Nothing has meaning anymore. The minute I see something I get excited about, I go, "Hey, that sounds fun. I'll tell dad!" Then I remember. I feel completely dead inside. I'm really just going through the motions, waiting for him. If he could just give me a clear message that he's all right, then I would probably feel a little better. But without anything from him, I imagine all kinds of horrible things he's going through right now. Is he upset? Is he lost? Is he scared? I wish he could just say, "Don't worry. I'm in a really good place now, and I'm happy." Where IS he? My mom asks this, too. WHERE? I read stories where people are saved by what they call "angels." They almost died but didn't, citing feeling or even seeing shapes that seem to be manifestations of guardian angels. If they exist, does that mean my dad doesn't have one? So that means I don't have one, either, since no one protected me from this pain. I miss him so much.

I am so sorry. I don't know what to say. I'm just so sorry.

I understand you so well. I really relate to your statement about fulfilling the duties of a student better than of a daughter. I was by my dad's side 24/7 in the hospital for 4 months (cleaning him, feeding him, talking to doctors), then went home to go back to school when my visa expired and once they moved my dad to a chronic care facility, saying he was in the clear and needed recovery in a less serious hospital. I could have renewed by flying to a nearby country...easy. But I didn't. I went back to school, thinking he'd be all right, thinking, "Hey, I can now be more useful by going to school and making arrangements for his trip back home." I'm kicking myself every single day for what I did to him. I don't have any advice. You're not alone, though. I don't know if I'll have to live like this forever; I have a feeling I will. I'd definitely trade places with him now. The whole situation is strange to me now; hindsight is 20/20. My present self is looking back at my few-months-ago self, going, "WHY DID YOU DO THAT, IDIOT! CAN'T YOU SEE IT'S SERIOUS?!" At the time I thought we were going to be okay; he was in the clear, and if the doctors, who went to school for years for this, didn't seem worried, then I shouldn't diagnose him myself and worry, right? Turns out I was wrong. Dead wrong. I have trouble living with myself these days. *hugs*

I've been having a bad day. It started yesterday or maybe the day before that, so actually I've had a couple of bad days. I've been feeling extremely alone and insecure. I look at my life, which I didn't have a single problem with before my favorite person went away, and am thinking it sucks to a point that it can't be repaired. Because I look at the people I admire, and their lives have things that I just simply can't have. I see people who are surrounded by huge loving families, and see that most of my family's in another country (and they bicker a lot). I have best friends who love me, but they have siblings and close extended family, unlike me, and when push comes to shove, I'm not their family since I'm not blood. I never worried about these things before, but now it's like I've adopted new eyes and they're much more negative. I start to think things like, "Wow, when my mom goes, I'm all alone, really, and I'll be spending holidays all by myself since it's just me now." I have "close" cousins who call me their siblings, but then I think, "Am I really to them? Maybe they're just being nice." And they live so far away, so they're probably just being nice. After my dad went away, one of my close cousins (she lacks tact, in my opinion, but maybe it's a cultural divide or something lost in her limited English) told me, "I feel so sorry for you. Your life is miserable now. I look at you and feel so sorry for you." I was surprised because for most of my life people have been saying what a charmed life I have. Now my dad is gone, his leaving fracturing everything, my life is poor now? She feels so sorry for me? I waved her comments off, but suddenly, recently, I began obsessing over what she said. It has burrowed in my head, and suddenly I honestly feel like ending my life. I'm thinking, "She's right. I'm pitiful." I'm so miserable and insecure now I can't even describe it. I look at my cousin, who is a lot older than I am and still has BOTH her parents, who lives with 5 family members (she's surrounded by people), and imagine what I must look like to her. She PITIES me. I don't think she ever pitied me before, but now my dad's gone, she PITIES me. And she told me she's so happy she's not me because she still has both her parents, whom she lives with. She hugged me a lot, took me everywhere, did a lot of nice things for me, but those comments are haunting me. I've had aspirations for a certain career since I was little, and was on my way, but now I see I can't possibly do it now. I don't have my biggest cheerleader with me anymore, and NONE of my idols in the field have sad lives like mine. I really think I just can't do life anymore. I'm so alone! Even when I'm talking to my best friends I'm alone. A little voice that I never had in my head before now second guesses everything and puts a negative spin on EVERYTHING. "Your old friends are just talking to you now because they pity you, just like your cousin. Once they get sick of your depression from losing your dad they'll leave." I can't get my cousin's comments (made months ago!) out of my mind all of a sudden! Should I talk to her about them...should I tell her they've really been bothering me all of a sudden? Maybe I should ask her so she can clarify or tell me she didn't mean them exactly the way she meant it? I don't know why they're suddenly bothering me so much now. I really can't do this anymore.