Today makes seven months since my brother passed away, and I'm no closer to healing than I was seven months ago. The wound is still as fresh, maybe more butchered than before. I feel like I've got wounds on top of wounds on my heart. Everything is snowballing at this point and it's making me more and more depressed. Is there a book somewhere that says 1 month= one year in grief years? So 7 months= 7 years in grief years. This is friggin worse than dog years. :confused
I found out today that my father doesn't have Endocarditis, instead he has Systolic Heart Failure..... so that leaves me to wonder.... did my mother intentionally not tell me what was wrong with my dad? Or was she lying? One thing to lie about an addiction that killed my brother for 14 years, but to lie about my father's diagnosis is another. Outlook is not good and on top of it... he's been diagnosed with Pneumonia for the second time since he was hospitalized back in November. I fear I'm going to lose my Dad too.
Me and my husband are not on the best terms right now. Same shit, different day. Ofcourse, it's always me that is the problem and he's doing me a favor by staying with me. Maybe if he wasn't always sneaking behind my back and lying to me, I could trust him. But I don't. Instead, I feel like I'm baby sitting him. Get a job, don't do this, don't do that!
No wonder I have a friggin headache! Owww, my brain hurts- almost as bad as my heart hurts.