(no subject)
fuck.
i'm officially emotionally drained. no, i lied. i'm not drained, because the emotions just won't stop. i am tired though. tired of dealing with shit. i wish someone had told me 10 years ago that being a grown up sucked ass. maybe i would have decided to stay with Peter in Neverland... my dad had a heart attack last night. somehow those words don't seem real to me. this morning i couldn't even say them without crying. it all happened so fast.
i went back home to visit and arrived at around 1am to find a semi-conscious father and a terrified mother. the ambulance came quickly though. i stood outside in the backyard with my brother and my dog. my dog kept whining. my brother kept smoking. i just sat. we watched everything through the sliding doors outside my parents' bedroom. it was like a tv show. exactly like a tv show. the paramedics, the firemen, the stretcher, the limp victim, the worried wife, the electric gizmo's... everthing. except the sound was turned off. because all i heard was a dog whining and a son puffing. and the whole time i could only think about stupid statistics...one in three, no one in five, fuck... and i said fuck a lot too.
he's okay though.
i did not like the cardiovascular ward at all. it reeked of people dying and crying. in the opposite room, an elderly woman with swollen eyes, watched her husband starting to disappear. i wanted to hug her. i wanted her to hug me. but all we shared was eye contact. a moment where we imagined eachother's pain. i almost hate that ward as much as the psych ward. almost.
but things are okay now. the hardest part was just dealing with the shock of it all. trying to fathom that kind of loss and devastation. trying to accept the mortality of your parents. trying to accept mortality.
i'm tired.
and im sorry i havent been around much.
i'm officially emotionally drained. no, i lied. i'm not drained, because the emotions just won't stop. i am tired though. tired of dealing with shit. i wish someone had told me 10 years ago that being a grown up sucked ass. maybe i would have decided to stay with Peter in Neverland... my dad had a heart attack last night. somehow those words don't seem real to me. this morning i couldn't even say them without crying. it all happened so fast.
i went back home to visit and arrived at around 1am to find a semi-conscious father and a terrified mother. the ambulance came quickly though. i stood outside in the backyard with my brother and my dog. my dog kept whining. my brother kept smoking. i just sat. we watched everything through the sliding doors outside my parents' bedroom. it was like a tv show. exactly like a tv show. the paramedics, the firemen, the stretcher, the limp victim, the worried wife, the electric gizmo's... everthing. except the sound was turned off. because all i heard was a dog whining and a son puffing. and the whole time i could only think about stupid statistics...one in three, no one in five, fuck... and i said fuck a lot too.
he's okay though.
i did not like the cardiovascular ward at all. it reeked of people dying and crying. in the opposite room, an elderly woman with swollen eyes, watched her husband starting to disappear. i wanted to hug her. i wanted her to hug me. but all we shared was eye contact. a moment where we imagined eachother's pain. i almost hate that ward as much as the psych ward. almost.
but things are okay now. the hardest part was just dealing with the shock of it all. trying to fathom that kind of loss and devastation. trying to accept the mortality of your parents. trying to accept mortality.
i'm tired.
and im sorry i havent been around much.