And I don't mean to be morbid or anything. If the word has triggered something sad in you, I apologize.
Why am I writing again? It's been so long since my last blog post. I haven't found the need to write anything in a while (almost 10 years at that). I guess I've been busy living life and enjoying the world outside of my blog and posts and writing. But recent events have pushed me to write down my thoughts again because when I'm alone with them, I feel I'm going crazy.
My team leader at work suggested I write my feelings out. Sure, I can get a therapist to help me work through all my emotions, but what better therapy than letting people on the Internet read what's up with my life? LOL Kidding aside, I don't even know where to begin?
I guess I should begin by saying that death is an inevitability. I know that. But somehow, experiencing it for the first time makes me so scared of even the word. I don't even know if I was scared to die? But when I thought of anyone in my family dying before (why did I think of that? Am I that morbid? No, just when I pray for their health, I can't help but think that eventually, God will take them back), it never failed to produce tears.
Maybe because it's due to COVID-19, and everything happened so fast, that it hurts this much. I saw his slow deterioration, even up to the point where my cousin and I was constantly looking over our shoulder to check if he was still breathing. We knew it was going to happen soon, but that's the thing with death isn't it? It still hurts even if you already expected it.
The nights following it are the worst. Even up to now, I see the way he was resuscitated, the way they were pressing on his chest, and the doctor telling us that he wasn't breathing on his own anymore. I almost wanted to shout then and tell them to stop because they might break his ribs, but I know that if they stop, that it's the end. I wanted them to stop, but I also wanted them to tell us, he's okay, he's going to be okay now.
But he didn't. I wish I could have done more? I wish I could have pushed for his dialysis against their wishes? It hurts a lot more because for me, there were a lot of what-ifs. We weren't the closest, esp. during his last days. But still I wish I could have done something for him. I feel guilty that he felt he didn't have anyone at home whenever him and my grandma would fight. Do I regret siding with my grandmother? I know she was in the right.
I told you I have a lot of thoughts. This could have been written a lot better I'm sure. But it made me feel a little bit better. I hope it helps me sleep easier. Maybe this is just the first part and I'll write again if there are sudden feelings.
