I always used to be a little stronger than was actually needed. No matter what difficulty or challenge came up, I always knew I was going to be able to overcome it. And I was indeed. Or at least I used to be. Nowadays I am always a little weaker than what the actual situation demands. There are no easy problems or tasks anymore, that can not beat me, paralyze me, or cause unsolvable difficulties to me.
Two weeks ago my father was still alive, and I was holding his hands in the hospital every evening. We buried him only 4 days ago. We were praying for him on the mass only 3 days ago. And what am I doing since then? I am working, as if nothing happened. And I am surprised that I am not feeling well. As if I hadn’t had an infernal year. As if I hadn’t lost my father who raised me from day one. As if I hadn’t seen his sufferings and his death. I didn’t have time for grief, although it definitely needs time and space. But when is the time and space for grief? Am I in my right mind? What am I doing? Two days after his funeral I jump into work. I do something that my body, my soul, and my mind refuses so clearly. A day passed today, a day that I could hardly survive, I was so nervous every minute. And I wasn’t thinking about my father at all. I didn’t shed a single tear. It was like living a day in hell. And I don’t understand why. Am I sane?
I had a dream last night. My brother had cancer too. He was in the hospital, together with father. And they were both receiving huge doses of morphine, because they had horrible pains, and neither of them had much left.
I can lie to myself during daytime, but my dreams never lie to me…