A little bit of determination

10.30am

I live in a flat which is quite small so space is an issue. I get really anxious and irritable when the flat is untidy or unclean which is extremely difficult when living with my extremely untidy boyfriend. So yesterday I made a start into transforming it. I only sorted the bookcase and drawers in the living room but it's made such a difference. Next stop - the bedroom and spare bedroom. I want the spare bedroom to actually look like a bedroom rather than a dumping ground. We have a garage so much of it can be stored down there but it means carrying everything down three floors and across a courtyard. I guess keeping things tidied and ordered is another of my control issues to deal with depression and anxiety.

7.00pm

Took some advice from my therapist and decided to take some time out just for me. I snuggled up under the duvet with a hot water bottle and a horror movie. Evil Dead is scary! Doesn't take away the fact I have so much cleaning to do. This makes me sad =(

9.00pm

Some of you may be wondering why I put the times on when I blog. That is so that I can see a trend in my moods and when I feel the need to talk. I've been thinking about dad a lot today which isn't surprising. But what is now different is that instead of breaking down into a complete mess, I've been dealing with it. OK, maybe dealing with it isn't the right word, maybe avoiding the thought. Every time I think that he'd dead and how he got that way, it feels like I've been punched in the chest by Mike Tyson. It is really heart breaking. I fear that he knew what was happening, that he was in a great deal of pain (now I'm starting to cry) and that he was scared. I knew he was terrified of dying and he knew it was coming due to his heart condition but none of us knew it would be so soon. I feel so dysfunctional. I am the one dealing with depression, anxiety AND bereavement. I was just starting to get better before he died. Even in the phone call to me where he died, he asked how I was and I said 'much better'. His reply was 'that's really good, I'm so glad to hear that'. Just heart wrenching that I'm not happy, as that's all that he wanted of me. I'm terrified that he may be watching over me, seeing how weak I am and being guilt wracked because he's caused it (unintentionally of course). I would never blame him for the difficulties of bereavement - EVER. It happened and it was NOT his fault. I'm just sad I didn't know he was dying when he was on the phone to me. Something in the back of my head tells me that I should have known he was dying. Maybe I should explain - 

Dad called me at work, he sometimes did this to have a chat as he preferred to call while mum was at work, then he could talk about how he was truly feeling. The marriage has always been rocky. In the phone call, he sounded happier than he had in a long time. He was cheerful that now he had just turned 65, he wouldn't have to pay national insurance and would be saving money due to it. He told me a funny story of work that morning (he worked 5am - 10am 5-7 days a week) and it really was very funny, made an impact on all the colleagues there, it's their last memory of him. Then we talked about other random stuff for a while and then he said 'I better let you go, I know you're at work' (I'm not sure if he said that because he knew something was wrong or not). I said 'OK, speak to you later, bye'. Then before he hung up, I quickly said 'how is the dog?'. His replied was 'yeah she's fine'. And that was the last words I ever heard from him. After that, I heard a clatter and some murmuring in the background. I assumed that he had tried putting the phone down but was having trouble with it. He wasn't the most apt with technology. I waited about 10 seconds and then hung up. I tried calling his mobile but there was no answer. Tried calling the home phone back but still no answer so I assumed he was using it. Turns out, he never ended the call to me which is why I couldn't get through. He was having a heart attack the second after he said 'yeah she's fine'. I had no idea, I didn't think it would be his time to go, i didn't believe it even though I felt something wasn't right. This was 1st July 2015 at 1.50pm. Mum got home around 3.45pm and found him on the living room floor. He was laid in an awkward angle as if he had collapsed while he tried to get up from the sofa. He still had his e-cigarette clenched in his hand which makes me think it may have been quick. The phone he was using to speak to me was underneath him. I got the call from mum to say she had found him. I was an hour away as I was at work. I didn't know what to do. Mum said there's no point coming back because my sister and brother in law were there. The police, ambulance and coroner were on their way. I spoke to a couple of colleagues and they suggested I go home to be with the family. I didn't want to. But I made a last minute decision after I got home, to go to my parents house an hour away.I'm glad I did...... It took the coroner over 3 hours to get there, which meant I arrived 30 minutes before they were about to take him away. I got to say goodbye. His eyes were full of gunk, he was staring blankly at the ceiling, he was grey and clammy and stiff. But he was still my dad. I kissed him on the head, squeezed his hand and told him I loved him. Then they took him away. Cause of death - a massive heart attack which we knew was coming. We didn't think it would be this soon. Even dad didn't know it was coming. Which is good for him, but it made it one hell of a shock for us.

I'm sat here now, blubbering like a baby, falling apart at the seams. Not knowing what to do with myself. The boyfriend is downstairs in a friends flat so I'm on my own. I'm drinking alcohol to try and numb the pain. I'll probably turn to codeine and diazepam later. I have to to up at 5.30am for work and here I am at 9.30pm, an absolute state. 

I just want my dad back, just for 5 minutes so I can say goodbye and tell him how much I love him. Despite the past, he was the best father I could have asked for in the last couple of years. We were building our father/daughter relationship to how it should be. And then he cruelly got taken from me. Someone may as well rip my heart out and send it to hell via First Class post. I'm sick of feeling like this. I just want to say goodbye. If I can't (which is obviously the case) then I feel as though it would just be easier to say goodbye to this world. But I can't do that because I have friends and family that depend on me. As a result, I feel completely trapped. My friend said to talk to her about these things but what's the point? None of that will bring my dad back, crying isn't go to change anything. I hurt so damn much and I feel so lonely as no one can see how I'm truly feeling. I put up a front to the point that one of my best friends said 'you're one of the strongest people I know'. If only he knew....