emptyinside

I've always believed in God, but these days when I hear people say things about loved ones waiting for us up there and how they're watching us until then, I get cynical and think, "What if this is something made up that we all say will happen just to make us feel better?" Of course, no one has the answer. My mind has been racing all over the place these days to some cynical and dark places. In one movie I saw a long time ago, a kid tells his father, "It's what's on the inside that counts," to which he replies, "That's just something ugly people say." Whenever I think of seeing my dad again, there's this other voice in my head that interrupts and goes, "You stupid girl. That's just something mourning people say to cope." I miss my daddy/best friend. I really, really need to see and talk to him again. I really hope I can.

Thanks, Chai. Good advice. Normally I'm a very nice and polite person, but I'm not at this moment. Looks like I'm making up for lost time. Whenever relatives say stupid things, I feel the need to scream. The person was like, "Well, do you think you and I will be alive in 70 or 80 years? We'll all be dead, too; it's how it works. So that should make you feel better. Smile." Um. Yeah. Thanks. Much better.

I could have written your post. I'm in the same area as my father, so I'd show him all of my work. Whenever I finished something, my dad's face would light up, and there'd be that glorious smile and a four hour conversation about it. My mother isn't in the field at all. She doesn't really understand the nuances of it, so when I tell her something about it, there's this smile and "way to go" proclamation without any flicker of real understanding. Dad and I were kindred spirits. We had that "sharing thing." Every time someone famous in our field did something interesting, I'd run up to him and update him. Dad and I were on the same wavelength, which inspired me all the time. It's greatly motivating to have your dad in your corner, cheering you on. Now, no one is there that GETS IT like him, which kills me. Encouragements and discussions fall flat when the source of them isn't familiar with what you're doing. A family friend was trying to cheer me up by asking me to explain my field. His basic questions and erroneous assumptions made me all the more sad; it was like explaining arithmetic to a child. I didn't have to explain a damn thing to my dad. He got it.

Today I saw a father walking hand-in-hand with his little daughter, dressed in pink and holding a drawing, taking her home from school. They looked A LOT like me and my dad once upon a time. I started crying and making uncontrollable whimpering noises. I'm jealous of a six-year-old. I've apparently swapped my brain for a kid's. I'm a little kid in an adult's body who just wants her daddy back. (Man, it SUCKS to lose someone who's just not a dad but your best friend in the whole world).

What do you say to people who say, "Feel happy, feel better, or you'll be destroyed by this/will be an unhappy person," etc. I feel like saying, "Look, you're not close to your father; there's no way you can tell me how to feel or not feel because that means you're disrespecting my love for him." I just feel like my dad is being disrespected when people tell me not to feel sad. They don't understand how he's my favorite person, how this has hurt me so deeply. It's not like I lost my favorite earrings! :angry: :angry: I still don't know 100% what happened to my dad in the hospital. I HAVE to find out. My extended family (they're in a different country, so the attitudes are different) wants me to let it go and just not ask questions, not bother the doctors, but I am PISSED and need to find out why. I know myself REALLY well. If I don't find out, I will go nuts (well, even more than I am now). I'm not taking this lying down. I have friends who understand me, but that's because we were brought up in the same place. My family in another country have a more "Eh, why ask questions" attitude, which just angers me. It pisses me off that they just want to let it go. Seriously, if someone in their family died mysteriously, the next day they'd just have dinner and move on without expressing their feelings, even if it was a murder. It's not "right" to express sadness or cry; people bottle it in. What should I say to one of them? I'm grateful one of them is willing to help me find out with asking questions. But I have to say something to him to get him to stop the stupid "Don't cry at all, crying is bad for you, everyone has to go, smile right now" BS that serves nothing but makes me more sad and angry. I really want to say, "You have both your parents and you're twice my age! Don't tell me to smile!"

My daddy and I had planned a trip to a place we had been talking about since I was a child. During my childhood and teenhood, he said we'd go one day (he spoke the language, but he hadn't been there in 20+ years). But before we went, he said I had to learn the language, which always seemed silly to me. He didn't mean learn a few phrases...he meant become fluent. I never became fluent in the language. Anyway, last year during his first hospital emergency, after he was recovering in the hospital, he told me and my mother, "Let's go. We should just go." After he got out, we didn't travel right away. Though he suggested I should take a semester off, I didn't. He said, "Take one semester off so we can all go as a family. It'll be great." I didn't, thinking there would be time in the summer. I was also working on a project that required his help, so he and I worked on it together instead of my taking time off. I was thinking of going through with the next semester (it was an important one for me, with unusual classes that provided me with some good opportunities), THEN we'd go to the place in the summer, and then perhaps I'd take the semester after that off to be with my family more. I just wanted to get this semester out of the way. Which I did. After which, he decided to travel to his home country for two weeks, where he was hospitalized and never came home. He wasn't in good shape to travel, but he did anyway, and became angry when we protested. I packed him his medicines, had his family over there on alert on his condition, and thought, "Well, it's only two weeks." He'd been back to his home lots of times, and two weeks always flew by. When he came home, he was supposed to go in full recuperation mode to really take care of his health problems more, after which we'd travel as a family to the place we always talked about (after all, I'd be on extended leave from school, so my time would be open). He never came back. And I'm looking at all the travel sites for the place, the list of fancy restaurants we had planned to eat at, the stores and tourist spots we had planned to see. It is SO PAINFUL that we can't go. I look at the pictures of these places: Daddy and I will never eat there together. Daddy and I will never see this spot, or that spot. I had been keeping a list of all the places we wanted to see together. I've had that list since I was a child, adding to it over the years. Growing up, hearing my daddy speak the language, talk about his experiences there years ago...that country is inextricably tied to him. And I keep looking at the pictures of the places online. I don't want to go anymore. But I keep looking at the pics because it seems IMPOSSIBLE we will never go, my childhood dreams dashed. What will happen to my list? I have all this pent-up excitement planted and nurtured since childhood. You know how you get excited about going on a trip? Imagine that excitement brewing for so many years, only to have it canceled at the last minute. I keep crying and crying at these pictures. HE ASKED ME TO TAKE A LEAVE AND GO ON THE TRIP, BUT I DIDN'T because I had stupid "important" classes and a project at work he was helping with, since it was his field. I figured there'd be time in the summer after he came home from his own trip to his home country. WHY was I so STUPID, thinking there'd be more time? Why didn't his first hospital trip alert me about mortality, how little time we have, how we have to experience things when we have time? WHY DID I PUT IT OFF? There's this famous restaurant we wanted to go to. We went into such detail I even know what we wanted to order from the menu. This is torture. Pure torture.

That sounds lovely. I feel the same way.

I'm having a hard time. My sleep cycle's messed up. They advertised a free event on the news that my dad and I would have LOVED to do. If he were here, we'd be getting up at 5:00 A.M. to get ready to go. I'm watching all the families live on the news, enjoying the event. I suddenly got this panicky feeling again: hurry up, daddy, come home so we can go to this! You're going to miss this! I feel sick. It's very cold right now in the house, and I had a flashback of dad, the rustling of his coat and change clinking in his pocket as he got dressed. There were many cold mornings of us getting up with plans to do something fun. I'm going to be sick (sorry, I can't share other details right now about what I'm studying or I'll never stop crying). It doesn't seem real he's not here, getting dressed, grabbing the keys. I can almost hear him in the next room. Where is he? I've had no signs or anything. It's getting harder, not better. I don't want it to get better. I just want him back.

Thanks. I am talking to him. It's just not the same. I just went to his room and looked at all his things. It's not possible he's not here. Look at all his stuff! Look at all the CDs he hasn't had a chance to go through yet. Look at all the books he wanted to read! What a waste. I'm so angry for him. I'm so angry he can't enjoy life with me. I'm so angry that other people his age or older get to live while he doesn't. I've been having hints of health problems myself, and I can't help but feel excited when I don't feel well. Maybe I'll get to go see him soon, I think. My dad is special. He's everything to me. He took me with him. He really did.

I have the strange urge to talk to my dad about his death. My dad and I talked all the time, every day, about everything: funny news stories, my day, a joke, you name it. I always made a mental note to mention things to my dad; I do this with no one else. We had long conversations about anything and everything. Now that he isn't here, sometimes I feel like picking up the phone or something to talk to him about his death. "Hey, dad, guess what? Doctors thought you were a goner. I was a mess on the plane. You should have seen mom." "Hey, dad, they had a funeral for you and everything!" "Hey, dad, I broke down in public so many times!" I feel like he's on vacation and will come back one day so I can relay all this to him. I'm reading this book on near-death experiences, and in it a person relays that a person was called out of death by loved ones...that the crying and begging from his family helped him to come back as he was dying. They were standing over his body. He felt the power of their love and desperation and came back. I was in another country when my dad passed. He was in the ICU, and my mom wasn't allowed in. What if I had been there? What if I had been there for him physically, calling him back? Maybe he would have survived. That's another reason why I think I'm responsible for his death.

When my dad was temporarily delirious (the first time he has ever been like that) in the hospital, he was talking in his sleep (something he has never done). He kept saying, "I want to sit in front." When he snapped out of it, I asked what he had been dreaming. He said he dreamed we went to a show and were being shown in by the usher. He and I loved to travel and catch shows. 3 months prior, before his hospitalization, we had seen one together. I told him, "Hey, when you get better, we're going to a bunch of shows, okay?" He said, "Okay." I have just been sitting here, replaying him saying that in my mind. "I want to sit in front." He wanted so much to be out of the hospital to go to a show with me, and I feel SO BAD I can't take him. It's like denying a hungry man food. "I want to sit in front." My daddy wanted to just see a show. Why didn't God give him that? "I want to sit in front." I have had no signs that he's in a better place. I suppose if I did, then I could relax a bit and think he's in heaven, which is the best place to be, better than any place on earth. But now I'm not sure about anything. "I want to sit in front." I feel like punishing myself for denying him it. I feel like someone should punch me or something. The internal pain is so sharp my brain's confused there's no physical counterpart.

I feel you. I wish I had taken more pictures. I think I have hundreds of photos of him that I took, but that still isn't enough. I wish I had more. At the end of the day, no matter what people say to me, he's not here, and that hurts. I just want to be in bed all day and think of him. I'm glad you have a few things of your father's. I have everything of his, and I haven't touched them. I just leave them in his room, waiting for him to come back. I've framed some photos of his and put them around the house. I need to see his face everywhere I turn, though I understand for some people that's too painful.

I'm seeing people about this, but it's not helping. I miss him too much. I haven't read The Shack, but I'll try to check it out. If God brings us to it, He will bring us through it? I just can't reconcile these strings of thought right now. How can I realize God has always been there? It seems like a cop-out to me. Someone is taken away, God doesn't answer why, so in this silence we arrive at the thought that God is always there -- just to make ourselves feel better. It's like an ostrich sticking its head in the sand. We get no reason. We get no what-for. We get nothing. But in this non-response we're supposed to say, "God loves us and is always here." How about horrific news stories on TV all day? Children raped and murdered. The elderly killed by hit-and-run drivers. People tortured. What about the parents of the children? Are they supposed to go, "Thank you, God, for letting my child get raped and murdered." And the loved ones of the elderly, "Thank you for letting my loved one lie in the street like discarded meat. I know it's a lesson of some sort." I know people who admit to me they're not close to their fathers, never really venture to know them or care to. They see them once in a while for dinners, but they don't really adore their fathers. They love them in the obligatory, I-have-to way. And their fathers are fine. Living life. But what about me? I, who adore my father, whom I deem the most important in my life? He's taken away. And I have to listen to friends who tell me they just ate dinner with their fathers, or moan about how their dads are annoying. I'd gladly have my life shortened to only a couple more years if that means I can spend them with dad. I have been praying nightly ever since I was little for God to protect my dad. I don't care if something bad happens to me. If I lose my sight, become disfigured, lose my legs, whatever...that's okay. Just don't take him. I knew what I valued. I didn't value prestige, money, etc. I valued family. And now I have to watch everyone I know with their dads, some of whom I know for a fact don't really appreciate them. When I was little, I watched a really sad movie about a dad who dies. I was so scared that I made it a point from that day on to never let a fight or argument last more than a day. I made a point to always apologize and hug him, never letting him go to sleep angry. I made a point to thank God every night for protecting my family another day. If God knows what everyone can handle, then how about those people who have killed themselves over grief? It's not that these people are just lazy drama queens who just gave up for lack of trying. These are people in so much pain that every second of life seems unbearable for them. These are people completely broken by it, though they don't want to be. You know, when some people with painful illnesses finally die, people say it's somewhat of a relief because the quality of life was so low and he or she was suffering so much. That's why people do DNRs. What about emotional pain? What happens when emotional pain lowers the quality of life so much that the suffering is ceaseless? I'm sorry, but I don't believe that everyone has the disposition to handle this -- just like some people are not the leader type, some people aren't the public speaking type, some people aren't Type A, some people aren't the wallflower type, some people aren't the athletic type, some people aren't singers -- well, some people aren't the type to handle traumatic grief. I see a lot of people are strong, and I commend and admire them, but I'm obviously not one of them.

I'm having a lot of trouble with this. What about stories about people who have killed themselves out of unbearable anguish after losing parents, spouses, children? Are they just weaklings for being unable to handle it? What about children who suffer atrocities and are murdered? Are they handling it? Is this some perverse "test your strength" test? Because I feel like I'm on fire (and not in the positive and metaphorical sense). Every second is hard, and it's getting harder and harder. The pain I feel for my lost loved one, the nightmarish flashbacks running through my head...it feels like I am him. I'm not only feeling grief as myself; I'm also feeling the pain as though I'm him. I hurt so much whenever he's in pain. I'd take a bullet for my dad. I never, ever want him to feel anything but happiness and comfort. I'm not handling this situation now. It's too hard.

I'm so sorry. I am going through the same thing. I am daddy's little girl and finding this extremely difficult, too.

The image of him holding his hand out for hers breaks my heart. I'm so sorry for your losses.

DebFromLodi, I'm so sorry that had to happen to your mom. My heart just aches for her, imagining that experience. As you know, I'm going through the same thing. I can't turn it off in my mind, though. How can anyone let someone suffer like that?

Whenever I think of the pain my dad went through, my heart feels like it's churning, I get out of breath, and I feel like someone punched me in the stomach. For as long as I can remember, I've always looked out for him. If he went through pain, I felt it, too. I just wanted him to be happy and healthy. Maybe I am an extremely empathetic person? I don't know. I'm not like that with everyone, though. I felt it the most when it came to my dad because I love him the most. If he wanted something and it was expensive or hard to find, I'd make it my mission to get it for him. I find it difficult to want to do anything too enjoyable now. I don't want to go to the movies (something my dad and I did all the time) because I'm sad he won't get to watch the film. I don't want to go to any fancy dinners because he won't be able to eat there. I can do normal humdrum things like shopping for food and stuff, but if there's some out-of-the-ordinary event, I begin to feel extreme pain at not being able to share it with him. I know a lot of people do enjoyable things in another person's honor, but I can't get into that. When he was alive, I was able to enjoy things. I'd go on trips with friends and everything (because my family and I hard our own special family time...if I did something exceptionally interesting and fun that I thought my family would enjoy, I could introduce it to them later). But now that there will be not more family time like that, I don't feel like doing anything special anymore. 2 weeks after he passed, someone in my family tried to get me to go on a trip with her. It was nice of her to ask, but I wasn't into traveling then, and I couldn't bear the idea of the beautiful trip she was planning because my dad wouldn't get to see all the sights, too. My joy for life has been sucked out. It's not fair that I can do things and my dad can't (and I know life isn't fair). I want him to be alive and able to enjoy all matters of things.

I'm so sorry about your loss. I offer no good advice. I can only say that I know exactly how you feel. I also think I failed my father. It's a rough existence, and I visit these boards to be among those who would understand. I hope you continue to do so, too. My thoughts are with you.

Chai, I identify with what you're saying. I feel angry and jealous when I see people my age with their fathers...even people more than double my age with their fathers. Why do they get so many years with their dads? Seriously, my love for my dad is so much that I would gladly have taken a bullet for him, gladly have taken his illness. My mother has a friend whose husband has smoked for 40 years; he is given a clean bill of health at his checkups, which seems remarkably unfair to me. I don't have advice, but I can say I think it's normal to feel anger and bitterness. I just let myself feel them. I feel really torn because I've always been a positive and nice person. I did all the nice things to strangers. I helped out. Yet God took my dad from me, and I'm now having bitter and angry thoughts I didn't have before. I don't know what to do with them, either. I am resigned to them now, I guess.

I'm really sorry for your loss and that you have no help. I just wish you didn't have to deal with this all at once so quickly.

This just isn't something I can live with. I want to see him more than anything in the world. I can't even go near the words "closure" or "accept." It's hard even typing these words. Chai, thanks for commiserating. I always appreciate it. Whenever my friends talk about their parents, I make no mention of it to them. I end up in a ball on the floor, crying. Why do they get their dads? My friend, who never lost anyone, even a pet, in her life, told me in a matter-of-fact cheery voice, "You gotta get over it, right? Pick yourself up. Go out and live life. Your dad would have wanted you to be out there, I bet." I almost hung up on her. I know she meant well, but I was so upset by that. My own reaction surprised me and I felt awful (but I never mentioned it to her...I knew she meant well). What? Force myself to live? Force myself to go dancing, socialize? I'm lucky I can stand and walk around the house. She has no idea how painful the images of him are in my mind, his suffering, his sad eyes, the little noises he made. I'm really thinking I'm a lost cause. This isn't something I can live with. Every second I'm fading. I have a huge aversion to any thought of moving on, healing, closure, acceptance, acknowledgment, etc. All I know is this pain, and my insides feel so uncomfortable in this body now. I feel physically ill. I don't even want to be here anymore.

Maybe get a heated blanket? Also, my friend uses these heat packs she gets at drug stores since she gets cold easily.

I feel guilty about keeping this one thread so long and cluttering the board, but I'm having another bad day. My dad and I loved gadgets. I was just on a news page and it flashed something about a new gadget. I panicked again. My dad and I always talked about the latest technological things. We'd read through tech magazines together, cut out articles for each other to read, etc. What the hell is going to happen to that? I'm already freaking out that they're going to come out with newer inventions that my dad and I won't be able to talk about. I want the world to pause. I'm sorry. I know I can still talk to his picture, I know he is "with" me, but I don't want things to be different. I want him here like he was before. I really don't think I'm going to make it. I don't want to make it, either. Yesterday I saw a guy from the back who looked so much like my dad that I almost drove into a pillar. I knew it wasn't him because he was wearing clothes dad would never wear, but it was so striking that I felt like someone just kicked me in the chest. All of my friends have their parents. My friend was talking about having dinner with her dad. I was so jealous. In addition to talking to his photo, I'm also writing letters, but it's just not the same. It just isn't, and I know I'm supposed to gradually get used to it, it's a fact of life, etc., but I'm so stubbornly yearning for the past that it's to the point that I don't care for reality anymore. Something like talking to my dad about new electronics was so precious to me that I cannot stand not having it anymore.

I'm so sorry for your loss. This board is wonderful. I myself just found it a few weeks ago. Keep clutching that teddy bear.