Scared, embarassed, hurt...

I sit here at 4 am not being able to sleep….I have spent the week being hurt, embarrassed and making a fool of myself. Now I am numb. I don’t know if I made a fool of myself because I am not completely myself but feel stupid. Right now I am over it all…all of it. I just want to give up. On top of all this my “weight loss” process is back, where I am not hungry and if I force myself to eat usually only eat a little before I start feeling sick, or if I am actually able to eat something it goes right through me. This is a good thing bad thing, I need to lose my last 20ish lbs, but hate the way it happens.

I am numb because, yeah my dad is gone. I sit here and read two drafts I have in my email to my brother…the brother that is talking to me. I cry. I get up the nerve and send the one. Will it make him made because I am expressing my feeling as my therapist has suggested or will it make him realize how I am feeling in all this? It is an email telling him I am afraid and hurt. I am afraid that they will take care of dad’s ashes and not tell me till after and afraid that the one brother is going to ask him to choice, him or me. Hurt because at the campfire I only got the bad stories…the he didn’t love us good enough comments, and they shared all the good stories with their friends when they got home, I am hurt because I asked him to send me some of these stories and after a month hasn’t had the time to send even one…

I have given up on ever talking to my brother ever again. I feel like giving up on a lot of things and I know a lot of this is my morning…not only am I morning my dad I am morning my brother. Many can’t understand why I am so hurt about my brother’s actions, even though we aren’t physically close or close in age we have always been a close family. I get things like “why let it bother you”, because my brothers are all I have. I have already lost one sibling and to lose another.

I sit here, I stare at an email from my uncle…how to respond, and I have been trying to respond since Tuesday. I wonder if he thinks he upset some or me because I always try to respond that day. I just am tired of feeling like everything I say to everyone is wrong, that my written word comes across wrong and is interpreted wrong. I was embarrassed, embarrassed and hurt, I had sent both my brothers and my uncle the link to my dad’s obit, the one brother replied, my uncle replied and nothing from the other brother. He didn’t even reply to my uncle’s comment about how my dad would have loved the US Open. My uncle knows my brother isn’t talking to me, I thanked him for the effort, but I was hurt and embarrassed. He won’t reply to anything sent from me.

I finished the email, said my point and gave him the respect he deserves. I realized I was doing in previous emails the one thing I didn’t like people to do, disrespect my brothers, and I was telling him the stuff about his sister/my mom that he shouldn’t have to hear. So I apologized and said I would try not to do it again. I then explained what happened between my brother and me because he did not understand.

I sit here looking at the boxes, the boxes I need to go through, I have to go through them before the kids head down to get the rest of the stuff at dad. So I decide to unpack the one box of casserole dishes I brought back that sat in the kitchen. Dishes are unpacked and washed.

As I move boxes around I find the button I made for my dad at a band competition, “I am proud to be a flag dad”….and my graduation tassel, I thought I had it but it was in a box of his, it might have gotten mixed in there just as I was moving stuff….found a small cassette, I decide to put it in the cassette player. OMG it my dad talking; talking about his military time. I listen to it on and off all day.

So here I sit, nine at night, haven written this on and off all day, moved a few things, listened to the sound of my dad’s voice, and unpacked one box…one box. The goal is one box a weekend. Maybe I will be daring and do one tomorrow, or just put them in better boxes so they will stack, one box down, five to go.