A funeral and a fever

Hello lovely people out there

As i promised myself i will talk about what I went through after my dad’s death, so here we are. Dad died, there were mum’s cries and we three were stunned. Neighbours start pouring into our house. One of dad’s friends asked permission of my mum to take us to his house for the night. So here we went with him quietly. I don’t remember much about that night. I only remember waking up in the middle of the night seeing my dad’s friend standing by my bed. He said he wanted to check if i had fever. He touched my forehead and said, “just checking for fever.” I was just twelve and i kept repeating that incident in my head millions of times. I wasn’t sick, why was he checking my fever. But i liked him showing concern for me. I was very vulnerable at that time. That was a tough year. I had my first period just a month before my dad died. I was always scared it will come back again next month. I felt like i am not a kid anymore and i was teased by my mum that i should start behaving like a grown up as i am almost a woman. I didn’t like that at all. I just wanted to be a kid, i just wanted my mum to treat me like one, especially now when i wanted to cling to her like a toddler the most. So whatever that was, i didn’t like the sudden promotion to adulthood. Anyways, but yes that friend of my dad didn’t do anything except for making sure i am alright. Though much later in my life while lying down, i suddenly remembered that incident and i felt a shiver down my spine. I narrowly escaped an attempt of molestation. May be my dad was looking out for me. So next morning we came back to our house, so many people were there. Oh i still remember my uncle clenching his fist and stifling a laugh. I found it so odd. Though my dad hasn’t done anything particular wrong to him. But then my dad wasn’t very popular too. My dad was a very straightforward man, almost rude. So perhaps that’s why. I was just praying inside my heart that the funeral will end soon sothat i can talk to my brothers and mum in a normal way. It was hard crying that much. We had been grieving for two years already. Was i wrong in thinking that all of this should get over soon? I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I knew that i wanted to fast forward the time and sleep in my bed peacefully without worrying about my dad, his medication or moving his couch around. I loved my dad, i still do but that day was overwhelming. I saw someone dying infront of my eyes. Actually the most scary part was knowing all this while that he was going to die. It was so frightening seeing him wilting an inch every day for two years. It was not normal. Death isn’t graceful. That’s why i was ao scared when my diagnosis came. Anyways, that day passed and some more days after that. A week after the funeral, we talked like a normal family. But our normal had changed. My mum was crying a lot those days. She used to tell me how she was feeling, how much care she had given him. I began to loose my sleeps in the nights. I used to keep checking my body for any sign of dying. I used to check my heart beat and pulse all the times. Then came the day, when we all were sitting in the garden talking about our school, and i felt that my ear is convulsing. I got scared and start gasping for air. My whole body had tingling sensation. My brain was telling me that I was going to die just like my dad. I felt my lungs are stuffed with something, i was breathing heavily. I scared my mum and brothers that day. I was taken to the doctor and he though it was ashtma attack. I was put on a inhaler. That was my very intense episode of panic attack. That was just the beginning. I kept having anxiety attacks any time. Everything was a trigger for me. I was still on asthma medication and not diagnosed for anxiety. My mum tried all the different doctors but nobody was ready to diagnose me as i looked perfect. So after six to seven months my ashtma medicine were stopped as i got an allergic reaction to the antibiotics. Finally we went to see a doctor on the recommendation of mum’s friend. That doctor listened to me and my situation. I was relieved somebody’s finally going to help me. But my mum was worried that mental illness diagnosis was not going to help me with my life. Society is never that kind to understand the mental state of a girl who has recently lost her dad and scared of everything and anything. Oh it’s too much. I will continue sharing what happens next and how and what helped me to overcome my anxieties. Or have I really gained my sanity back? Is anxiety that big a deal? Talk soon.

Hugs 

P