Death Don’t Hurt Very Long
I have been avoiding this for months now. Even though I know how important it is to journal and write down my thoughts, I have not been doing it. Number 1, my hands hurt so I don’t want to write. So why don’t I type? Because I do not want to see my own words. I do not want to confirm truths by writing them out. I wrote in my journal 1 time since the accident, and I knew it would be the last time for a while.
Well I can’t let these thoughts live in my head forever. I have to write again. And share what I am writing. It’s one thing to produce notes and entries and leave them in a book to never be read again (does anyone ever go back and read EVERYTHING?) But words have meaning and can bring light to others. Maybe my words will be someone else’s light just one time.
I actually have been going back to read my journal entries and I can definitely say that I am still in the same funk I was in last year. Only difference is this funk has been made much funkier due to the sudden, tragic passing of my dad. It fucking hurts to type those words. So much. I hate it. (Cries for 10 mins)
(Smokes a bowl/does dishes)
I have to get used to saying that. For the rest of my life.
(Breathes)
It feels like someone grabbed my heart and squeezed life out of it. I literally feel weaker and I couldn’t imagine feeling this time and time again. I don’t want to feel this way again. But it is inevitable. It’s fucked up and I know it doesn’t have to be. Death can be a glorious thing depending on what one’s perspectives are on souls and afterlife.
This particular death shook me to the core. Like literally my core hurts thinking about it and reliving it. Never have I experienced a death like this. I thought I had more time. I thought I could avoid the inevitable a little longer but that shit pulled up and body slammed me to the ground.
July 12, 2021 will always be one of the worst days of my life. Losing a parent fucking sucks. My entire world has stopped and the focus I had leading up to that tragic day has since diminished, leaving me feeling empty, angry, weak and just overall unwell.
