Venting venting venting
After Dad's death less than 2 months ago, I have become obsessed about seemingly irrelevant things. I used to be a carefree person, dealing with difficulties in life as they came, but moving on and never getting stuck. Dad suffered a bad stroke early during the year, weeks after I got engaged. He suffered right sided hemiparesis and aphasia. Now, hes passed away before he could even participate or witness the wedding of his first daughter. From a very jovial person who loved to joke, laugh, help others to becoming socially withdrawn, helpless, unable to express, I have seen my Dad suffer. My family and I were being strong for him, but it killed us to see him like that. Everyday was a struggle - being normal around Dad, laughing, cheering him, caring for him, but when he was asleep, I used to cry for him, for how he must be suffocating inside - unable to communicate or do things. My Dad, my pillar of strength, used to cry helplessly when he couldn't do simple things or needed our help for the basic necessities.
We thought things were slowly getting better for Dad. His condition started improving with the medicines and physiotherapy. Though he also underwent speech therapy, he wasn't making much progress - though there was definitely SOME improvement. His doctor was really happy with the progress he was making.
And then things went downhill again. He became stubborn, refused food and medicines and any form of exercise. We took him to a psychiatrist to alleviate any depression. He had his good days and bad days. Few days later, he had to be admitted to the hospital after he fainted. The doctors put him on a higher dose of blood thinners. And he became worse. My Dad suffered a second major stroke due to bleeding in his brain. Four days later, after he slipped into coma and we witnessed crazy emotional upheavals and testing times, he passed away in front of me, while I was touching his feet and watching him breathe his last.
I am now in the grief mode, angry at times, guilty at times. However, I worry so much, its controlling my life. I imagine what would happen if anything happened to my family, my fiance. And I freak out and cry. I read religious books and get scared of superstitions. I am typing this because I saw a dog howl in front of my balcony (few days before Dad had his first stroke, dogs howled as I passed them when I was out for my evening run). I am now terrified.
I am not this person. I don't want to over analyze and over worry about things. I don't want to worry if everything will be alright with my upcoming wedding. I miss how these things never even crossed my mind before and how optimistic I was about life.
I want to be my cheerful old self again.