One step forward, two steps back

I was going to therapy, taking the steps I needed to be the best version of me, be there not just physically did my daughter but mentally as well.

During this time my father started to deteriorate fast. I would check in with him daily, worry about him constantly, and try to be as much support as a could from thousands of miles away juggling a million of my own plates. I was exhausted, worn down, I didn’t know how much more I could give in each aspect of my life. I was partially in denial too. My dad attempted suicide when I was 16 but I feel like it was more of a cry for help then anything because he called soon after. He had overdosed badly. If he would have waited much longer to contact someone, he would have certainly been dead. He was in the ICU for a week with little to no promise that things would be looking up. People were praying fir him constantly and even came and prayed over him while he was in his coma. Miraculously hours before we were going to make a decision on whether or not to keep him in life support, he came to.

I just thought this time there would be a bigger warning. Maybe because I was so far in denial, I missed a lot of the warnings. I knew in my gut something was very wrong though. I had a crazy week that week and didn’t check in with him as much. Practically not at all. I had a big wedding that weekend and reached out to him Saturday and Sunday with no response.

I have no clue why I did not call the police at that point but you have to know I was going through this for over a decade. Sometimes I just needed to exhale a little. That was the weekend he took his life. I wish I would have paid more attention. I should have.

The second the phone rang with that area code I just knew. The second I heard the officers voice I started sobbing. I can remember clear as day receiving the phone call. I was sitting on my bed in my room and my husband was sitting next to me. After making some quick decisions on the phone I just sat there in shock. I couldnt cry. I couldn’t do anything. I just wanted to puke.

There were a million phone calls to be made, decisions, flights and hotels to book, family and friends to notify. Everything was a complete b l u r .

My mother flew down with me to handle the funeral arrangements and figure out what to do with his belongings and clean out his home. My cousin met us there as well, along with some family that already lived down there. I was strong when I needed to be in public and dealing with the funeral home, his employer, etc. I’m just not one to break down in front of people, but I remember just sobbing into the phone to my husband while sitting in the hotel room. It’s all still a blur. Some days I still do not believe he is gone.

I took two steps backwards. I felt like I was drowning, I could barely tread water. We got back home to Wisconsin and I was a complete wreck. I didn’t know how to feel, what to do, I just couldn’t get it together. I felt like i was living two different lives. One where I had to keep it together for my family, friends, business, etc., try to be positive and keep moving forward and the other one where i was completely drowning….

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