Death.

Disclaimer: If you couldn't tell by my title, this will be a downer post. I need to write this for my personal records...so should you feel like not reading it...I understand. I myself like to stay away from things that I can't control, that stress and worry me, or that are just negatively definite--no matter what I do. So I won't be offended should you choose not to read, or comment. Because as I said before, this is for me. There's something about my blog that I love...something about putting my thoughts out there...writing them down and being unapologetic about them. Or sometimes I am apologetic...but I say what I need to. I try to explain myself, even if it comes out harsh and whiny. This is therapy for me. And because I really don't know if I can put full trust in any "professional therapist", because they are actual people and have problems that they can't figure out just like every other human being, I'll go with typing all this out, and try to distinguish how I'm feeling about everything...and what kind of dealing will work best for me.

Anyway, I thought it best to put that out there. Because there are times when I read stuff and realize halfway through that it's "too deep" for me right then. That thinking back on that pain or hardship will do nothing but make me ache. And I have too many people depending on me. That sounds terrible even to my ears, but I have to be honest. One day, maybe I'll grow up and be able to take it like a man...whatever that means.

So dying...death. I guess I'm kind of privy to various types of emotional deaths...like: The death of a friendship or the death of love. Both sound kind of severe and cheesy, but the heartache is real. Like most people, I've experienced both and cried and thought I would die because of the pain in my heart. I've mourned both, as well. Sometimes I look back on those times fondly, and sometimes things are still too painful to really delve into.

Then there's the death of a marriage. And though I haven't experienced this on the marriage end, I was part of this by proxy--because the married people were my parents. That was hard, too. Though it worked out better for them, going through it was Hell...and eye-opening in a very negative way. I'd seen them fight and be mean to each other, but I'd never seen them be petty and spiteful. And suddenly I realized how childish parents can be. I wasn't the only one that was hurt in the process; like each experience, it was terrible for everyone involved.

I've also experienced the death of a pet--and though I've made it quite clear that I'm not an animal lover, I've shed a lot of tears for little pets I've had growing up, and I am one that gets attached quickly to anything that depends on me, and will show me love. I grew up with a lot of different animals...and hurt every time they did.

Then there's the more serious types of death. Serious to me, anyway. A death of a friend, or someone that is more than a friend to you. Where one moment they are there and everything is great, and the next you find yourself breathing quickly, and silently praying that this is just a stressful nightmare and you'll wake up soon. Or it's just a tasteless joke, and you plead that whoever delivered the bad news would realize that they'd gone too far, and take it all back. I've had the displeasure of these events in my life, as well. I've cried so much that I sounded like a wounded animal...where sounds were no longer human, and words were lost to me. And I've also felt so numb and empty that I couldn't find any sounds. And I just wanted to slip into the oblivion that is sleep; where reality bends to anything you'd like it to be. And death isn't an option because by some miracle, everything works out, and whatever caused the death was somehow avoided because I had circumvented it at the last second.
Unfortunately, this doesn't make me unique. Most people have felt these same feelings and can say that they've lost just as many important people that I have. I know this. It's inevitable. But to each of us, our individual pain is often so great that it surpasses our ability to think cognitively. And we lose ourselves in our own sorrow. For the record, I tried to think of ways to write all these thoughts down that didn't sound completely tragic and comparable to bad high school poetry. But I think that this is still a part of me that reverts back to that person that becomes more cynical with each experienced death. That person that is still surprised that it happens the way it does, and when it does. Logically I know that it happens to all of us, but there are times when the how and why just don't make any sense.

My father is dying. I've known since mid-December...a little after my birthday, and Sydney's birth. He didn't want me to know, because I'd just had my baby, and it was a happy/relieved time for me. But it's something that you really can't hide from people--it's something that you shouldn't.
Because of his request to not let anyone know, I've kept it quiet. My kids don't know...and I honestly don't want them to. This is something that I am trying to be diplomatic about, as it is a fact of life, and they will obviously find out. But for now, I don't believe that kind of stress and worry should rest on a child's shoulders. There is so much negative out there that they will eventually experience, and though some may think this is cheating them in some way, I highly disagree. My kids, my decision. Also my father's decision. He'd prefer they remember him as the Grandpa Steele that loves them. Not the Grandpa Steele that's wasting away. And he is. And it kills me. Watching someone you love continually getting worse and knowing that there's nothing you can do-nothing anyone can do-blows. There's really not an eloquent way to explain it; not that I've thought of, anyway. I'm hurting and feel like there's no one to talk to. And there are people I can talk to, I know this. But no one that has experienced it the way I'm currently experiencing it. So it's too much to explain exactly where I stand, and why. I can't find the words. Obviously.

I've been sad for a while now. I worry every time my phone rings. I just got a call that my dad is in the Emergency Room, and this has become the norm. I was told he'd have 12 to 14 months left, and it's been less than five. I feel cheated and sick, and I worry about my stepmom because she's losing her husband and she's living my worst nightmare. I can't sleep, and I can't think.
Phew. Okay. Too much, too soon. I'm trying to keep it together. And I'm trying to be strong. So that's where I am. I'm kind of checking out of things that normally would be important to me....that are important to others. And I think it's more fair that I explain why. I've had a few people ask me why I'm not visiting as often or why I seem even more detached or why I'm not as excited about certain things that I normally would be. I'm sorry, but I'm not there right now. I'm not really capable of it. And instead of pulling aside everyone that doesn't know, I'm just putting it all out there. All at once.

I hope that clears the air. I hope that things I've said will be taken as they are, and with the knowledge that these are my feelings. And they'll be respected.