One step forward, 3 steps back

Trigger warning: do not continue if you are prone to anxiety attacks, crying, frustrated fits, etc.

I am so frustrated. I am angry and frustrated and pissed off and so angry at myself. I’m so frustrated that after 2 months of statistics, I can’t do anything. I’m so frustrated that my brain will not wrap itself around this idea. I’m so so so frustrated that I’m not good at math. Both of my parents were math professors. My dad flipping loved statistics. How come he had to die? How come he couldn’t be here?

The other night, my friend Edwin asked me what I missed most about my dad. I didn’t even know how to respond. I try so hard not to actually think about my dad because it brings back so many memories of him dying. I miss having the “burden” of taking care of him. I miss it so much. Having to get his medicine ever hour, having to stop my work to massage his muscles, having to take a slice of ginger and 3/4 cup of water and microwaving it for 1.2 minutes. I miss all of it so much. I still have thoughts of running downstairs to see him sorting stamps in the dining room. I still have thoughts of coming downstairs to see him meditating in the kitchen with his feet up.

I miss my dad so much. We weren’t even emotionally super close, but we were still close. I love him so much and I just can’t ever bring myself to be okay with his death. I’ve accepted it, I’m good. I know he’s dead, there’s no changing that. But why life leads you up to that, I will never understand. They say that if you do well now, you’ll get rewarded in the future. It’s called karma. If that’s true, what the hell universe? Did my dad murder a thousand families in the past? Was he some futile dictator? Why’d you have to make life so difficult for him?

I’m sitting here. I’m 16. I’m struggling with my math. I’m crying every other night from stress and anxiety and depression. I’m lost. I’m so lost at what life is supposed to be. How did life lead me up to here? How did I lose my dad? Why did it happen like this? I can’t solve a damn statistics problem without wishing I had my dad here. I don’t want to use it at as a crutch. I don’t want to use my dad’s death as an excuse for my inability to compute math. But what I do want to do is be able to understand what I’m doing and why I’m doing it; not only in math, but just in life and in general. I can’t help but think life would be easier with my dad.

I’m frustrated. I’m pissed. I’m angry. I’m so emotional over this because of damned math class. I’m frustrated that I’m not perfect, that I never will be. I’m frustrated that I will never be enough, and if I am enough, that my dad will never see it. I’ll never get another “good job” out of him. Don’t give me that “he’d be proud of you if he were here” bull shit. He’s not here, he’s dead. Be blunt. Don’t euphemise it with that heaven, reincarnation, whatever stuff. He’s dead and gone. No matter what happened to him, he isn’t here. That makes me so angry. I can’t even believe in a faith enough to save myself from this.

This post was a mess from beginning to end.

-PN

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