My father passed away June 9, 2016 at 3:53PM.  

I have found the last week and almost half very difficult (of course), and while I havent written in a very long time, blogging helped me a LOT when I was younger and needed an escape for my all-consuming emotions.

I don't know if I'll use this place or if I'll blog under a different name (mostly because this is so life changing and almost feel like it needs a whole new blog). 

I just feel this overwhelming sense of loss. My heart feels like it has a gaping hole in it, and everything I know is out the window. Sometimes the missing him is so strong, I can barely breathe. At night I just keep repeating the same images over and over in my head (his last two nights alive). I am consumed by these images, and I cry so hard and so long, I finally fall asleep around 4-5am. 

I do not know how to live without my father. I know there is a way. I know I must learn it, but right now it seems such an impossible thing. I feel like life is not complete if he is not here. I always think I can't possibly have anymore tears, but more come. At a scent, at a memory, at a photo of his (that I have a billion of on my phone), at an activity that my mind can't stop put place my father there with us ... but he's really not there. 

I feel so broken. I feel so lost. I feel so empty and heartbroken. The heartache is so overpowering I don't know how I get up each day ... I don't know how I can put one foot in front of the other. He is/was my whole life... the only man I have ever loved this much and who has meant more than my own life to me. 

I am so angry. So angry at God for taking him so young. He was only 63 (64 this July 8th, which he didn't even make it to). Sunday was sooooooo hard. Everyone posting their love and sentiments to their fathers for father's day ... as I scrolled through my feed I just felt more and more crushed and just had to log out because I just cannot take it.

I feel so much jealousy. Some people are so lucky to still have their dad. I wanted him here with me until I was 60 or 70 or even 80 but I'm only 34 and he's already gone ... he's GONE. The reality of it hits so hard sometimes. Other times I can almost pretend.... almost pretend he's just on vacation and I'll see him soon... but I won't. I dont know when I'll see him or even if I will .... and that KILLS me... kills me inside. 

I miss him SO FUCKING much. It hurts SO FUCKING much. I dont know how to deal with this grief... I don't know how to handle this. I got a book and it spout shit at me and I just tossed it into a corner to collect dust. I dont know what to do but it hurts so.damn.much. SO MUCH. Someone should have warned me... prepared me to feel this much it is killing me inside. 

I miss you dad. I miss you SO MUCH. I love you ... so damn much. This is so soulcrushingly painful ... I wouldn't wish this on anyone, ever.