I have a resounding amount of guilt about the fact I couldn’t save him, like I should have had the knowledge to know what to do when someone has had a stroke, like I should have the powers to know what was going to happen.
HOW DARE HE DIE? WHY DIDN’T THAT GUY SEE HIM? WHY CAN’T I OPEN THE GOD-DAMN MILK?
I was angry and depressed all at once, I couldn’t do any of the tasks I needed to do because I couldn’t focus but then felt overwhelmed at how much shit I had to do. Another on-going vicious cycle.
Get ready to see a whole lot of pain, anger, and distress. They will cry, they will lash out, they will spend days in bed. Be prepared with tissues, chocolate, cuddles, tea (other hot drinks) etc. but let them have their alone time as well.
Alrighty, sit down, buckle in and listen up. Today I’m going to tell you of the worst person I have dealt with during this time.
I regret the conversations we never had, the time we did not spend together. I regret that I never told him that he made me happy, when I was in his company. The world was the better for his being in it. These things alone do I now regret: things left unsaid. And he is…
I remember so many mental breakdowns about not being able to help different people. They were so bad, I felt like I was failing everyone.