do this....It has been more than two years since my father died, and I still cannot cry for him and nor can I face going to his grave - for simply - I can't accept that he isn't there any more.
I am told healing starts with acceptance. When finally you give up the anger, the denial and rage you feel at the unfairness of life and the cards dealt out to you. You begin to understand or perhaps just give up the fight and succumb to what is rather than wish, hope and fight fruitlessly for what you want. Is it defeatism? Is it just another word for giving up hope and and drowning in misery?
I may sound morbid and deeply affected, I may be so. This is for the sake of not being able to write whatever the heck it is that I do write about. This is of what happens and what I go through at all times of the day and night, this is about my constant state of mind and soul. I know there is somewhere, just on the periphery, just on the edge so that if I turn my head I would see and behold clearly, my father.
Now some may find this a little obsessive and a trite too over indulgent, this wallowing in grief and self-pitying, this continuous grovelling and constant complaining and to them I have only this to convey, do I care what you may think of me and how I deal with what I feel?
I am still struggling to comprehend the meaning of death, and preposterous as this statement sounds I am still seeking answers, have I found any, of course the answer is no, in fact I have gotten yet more confused and lost.
People are there one day and the next moment they disappear forever and you are expected to accept this as part of life, part of the mystery of being.... I simply refuse to do so.
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