00:05am 9/12/12

It is officially 15 years since I lost my father. I say lost like he was a puppy that I mistakenly let off the leash in a crowded market but you get the general idea. Some days I'm almost 100% sure I'll never get over it. Other days not so much. As has become tradition I shall post some things on my other blog here and maybe also my Tumblr here about Daddy. I hope you all enjoy. 

Writer's block; Happiness; Father; Rant.

I’ve been going through a bit of a blank when it comes to writing recently. My work has direct and major links to my emotions and right now I’m kind of falling apart inside.

I’ve been contemplating writing this mini “expose” (for want of a better word) for a while now and I still don’t know how I’m going to approach it. So pardon my lack of coherence and the metaphorical tear stains all over the page. 

I know I sabotage myself a lot. The thoughts that go through my mind kill me slowly like hired hit-men and no one around me seems to notice half the time. They aren’t remotely silent thoughts, so I am often baffled and frankly amused that no one ever sees my eyes screaming. And when they do they just assume I’m tired and of course I let them think that, because in some ways I am. 

On the 9th of December it will be 15 whole years since my father died. A lot of things spring to mind when I have that thought. I still find it hard to deal with and that’s what worries me the most. I feel like I should be ‘over it’ by now. Of course I’m aware of how unrealistic that sounds but at the same time I’m sick of crying about this all the time. I’m sick of insulting quasi-memories of events that may or may not have happened the way I remember them.I’m sick of coming from a family that never discusses the big stuff. Instead we cover it up with unnecessary fights, bad jokes, repeated anecdotes and trivialities. And I just can’t deal with this.

A year after he died I sat in front of my praying mother and cried. When she realised why I was crying she rebuked me. And I never brought it up again. Often times we talk about my dad like some entity that once existed then stopped existing. IT DIDN’T HAPPEN LIKE THAT. 

And yes I know I should address this issue with them, but my family has never worked that way and we don’t deal with change well so…

Any way, I miss my father a lot this year. I just turned 21 and I’m thinking of all the reason’s why I need him around now and how life would have been different if he was. Even though I now realise I am no longer 6 and I can’t keep hoping to wake up and see my father sitting in his long chair, I still have other wishes. I wish I could remember his voice. I wish I could see him in a dream talking to me as I am now. I wish I could see him in a dream talking to me as I was then.

I have a lot of love and I feel ungrateful for not appreciating that as much as I dwell in this. But THIS is a major part of my existence so I find it hard not to dwell. I know that come December 9th I will gradually return to some form of emotional…numbness?? Stability?? I don’t know. Whatever shade of blue it is I usually maintain for the duration of the year. But right now the world feels rather dark and heavy. I find myself being thankful for things like seclusion and hours of the night where I can cry silently into my sleeves and insomnia and friends/family with eyes that do not see.

I saw something on Tumblr today that made me smile and cry and think today:

maybe my fathers presence

would’ve ruined me

as much as his absence did. 

Warsan Shire