I’ve always believed in the supernatural. I’ve never seen a spirit, but I’ve believed those who say they have. Psychics who can talk to the dead seem convincing, knowing things that seem to prove their authenticity.

I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life. I always viewed the afterlife as, in some way, overlapping life here on earth. Up until now, I’ve never felt so confined. For the first time since my dad’s death, I’m actually realizing that he’s gone. He is actually gone.

I’ve cried until my insides ached. I have begged my dad to let me know he is okay. I’ve begged him to show me a sign, to flicker a light, to say something.. but he hasn’t. I’ve asked God why; why do other people claim to have seen loved ones, talk with them, feel their hands around them, and I get nothing? My dad was ALWAYS there when I needed him, but not now. I begged and begged with the deepest parts of me; I told my dad that I needed to know that he is okay. If he heard me and saw my pain, why couldn’t he show me? I know if he heard me, and was able, that he would. If others can have closure, why can’t I? Is everyone else just lying to themselves as a coping mechanism? Can the dead really communicate with us? I don’t know. All I know is that my dad is gone and I’m not okay.

My mind no longer sees earth and ‘Heaven’ as connected. I see an impenetrable wall around everything that I know. I feel closed off and scared. Death stole my father and I don’t know where it took him. The past twenty-four years of my life, I’ve had my dad. Suddenly, I’m supposed to just be okay without him? I’m supposed to just accept that he’s gone with no explanation as to where he went? I’m supposed to accept that other people have talked to or seen their passed loved ones, but I haven’t? Call me selfish, but I need to have that same experience. If I can’t know that my dad is okay, then no one else should be able to have the comfort of knowing their loved ones are okay. Screw that and screw everyone else.

Until I have answers, and proof, then I’m going to be angry. I’m angry that this life is so cruel and it doesn’t get any better. We are all going to die in the end, but to go where? To just disappear? We spend our life being the best we can, raising a family, comforting friends, being charitable, making memories, spreading love, creating an identity for ourselves. How can losing the last bit of air in our lungs just take all of that away? Our body is merely a shell for everything that lies within us, so where do we go? Where does the deepest and most beautiful parts of us go? I can’t make myself believe that we just disappear into nothing. My father can’t just vanish; he meant too much to just go away forever.

How am I supposed to be okay without knowing that he is okay?

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Who am I?

I’m at a crossroads between who I am and who I want to be; I see everything I want, and I also see everything that I’ve been molded to be. I like certain things from both of the roads; can I pick and choose? Can I take the best of both routes and make a new road? That is, if I’m even strong enough to abandon the road I know so well..the me that I’ve grown up knowing. My habits, fears, desires, obsessions, anxieties, dreams.. are those things concrete? At this point, am I able to change some of the strongest qualities about myself? I aspire to be happy, but maybe that isn’t a part of who I am. Sadness and exhaustion seem like a standard part of my personality. I’d like to have a loving, honest, and faithful marriage one day, but can I? Can I be faithful to someone for a lifetime? Can I love the same person endlessly? I want to be religious, but will a religion ever actually make sense to me? I want a career, but I struggle to finish school. I want to run away for a while, to someplace unknown to me, but I am chained; I am chained to where I’ve grown up. I need to love myself and be okay on my own, but I constantly cling to a romantic partner; if I don’t feel wanted, then I feel nothing except for incompleteness. I need my father, but he is gone; no matter how hard I cry, he isn’t coming back. I need to know that he can see me and hear me when I speak to him, but I can’t. I need to know I’ll see him again, but how can I know that? Faith isn’t enough when it comes to family. So, for now, I stand at this crossroads and take time to examine where I need to go.

Reaching Out A Hand For Help

As of recent, my life has took a turn towards my worst fear: my father getting old and sick.

I am twenty-three years old; my parents have been together for over thirty years. My mother is twenty-five years younger than my dad; my mom is fifty-three and my dad is seventy-eight. Growing up, my dad was not young and playful like all of the other dads I saw with my friends. He was in the prime of his business career, busy working in the garage, always running about- things any healthy fifty-something-year-old would enjoy doing. Up until less than a year ago, my father has had no significant health issues; he was still active, his mind was sharp. Then, all of the sudden.. things changed. Things changed drastically. My mother and I, scared and confused, avoided showing any fear. My father, for a long time, denied anything was wrong. The reality of the situation was obvious to everyone except for him.

My worst fear, as a child and as an adult, was this happening. It was seeing my dad go downhill. It was seeing him using a cane or a walker. It was seeing him forget how to form sentences. It was seeing him forget things that he has always known. It was seeing him forget how to add up money to pay the cashier. It was seeing him lose the ability to drive. It was seeing him in diapers. It was seeing him old.

I am reaching out for help. Tons of adults face going through this with one or both of their parents, just not at my age. In the beginning of my adult life, trying to figure out who I am and make my place in the world, I just cannot seem to grasp what is happening. I need more time to pass before I can deal with this, but sadly, I do not have time on my side. Anyone, regardless of age (although it would be nice to communicate with someone around my age about this), please.. let me know how to cope. Give me tips on how to process this. Help me accept this as reality. Any kind words, stories, advice, prayers, thoughts, etc. are more than welcome.

Thank you.