End of a Long Week

End of a Long Week

Just came from my sister’s apartment. For the last two hours we have been writing out thank you notes for all the support, flowers, and what have you for my father’s wake and funeral. I didn’t think we would get it done this soon. I really didn’t, but my sister is frantic and wants to get everything done now. We still haven’t done his apartment yet. That will be sometime next week. I told my sisters I will take care of my father’s doctors, except his oncologist who was an ass in the end.

Tomorrow I am going to page my psychiatrist like I said I would and then spend the day in my bed, probably writing blogs whenever I feel like it, so be warned. I actually don’t know what I am going to do tomorrow but I know it’s going to be minimal. I did order Chinese food so I have that for left overs. Maybe read a book that I started but haven’t finished yet. The last book I finished was in February. I have the Harry Potter book in my hospital bag. I haven’t touched it in weeks. Then I have Dostoevsky that I haven’t touched since I don’t know when. I really want to concentrate on his book as it’s so long. I really want to start Crime and Punishment after I finish Brothers Karamazov. Those are the two goals I have.

Being at my father’s apartment today really got to me. I felt trapped and isolated, which is probably how he felt with his illness and always being tired. I still cannot get over the rapid decline. My sister gave me a copy of the death certificate and now it’s real to me that my father is gone. Well, kind of real. I am still expecting him to call. I still have his number (though it’s disconnected) in my phone. I still have his dead sister’s number in my phone as well. I just can’t let go of her. I know I will delete my father’s number one day. It’s just not today.

I feel really sad. I am also tired. It’s been a long day with waiting for those idiots. I plan on complaining soon as I get the energy to figure out what I am going to say. It should not have taken them all week to pick up the equipment.

I am feeling suicidal. I just want my pain to end. I got the means to do it. I just don’t know if I have the courage to go through with it because I know how hard it is to pay for a funeral now. I really don’t want a wake or a funeral. Just cremate me without all the hooplas.

About G. Collerone

suicide attempt survivor writing about the hopelessness that accompanies depression that no one likes to talk about
This entry was posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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