6 months

Exactly 6 months ago I had one of my last phone calls with my father. What I would give to be back in the moment and beg him to stay, remind him that this too shall pass, book him a ticket to come see his granddaughter, listen, be there for him…..ANYTHING.

I’m doing a lot better than I was in the first few months following my fathers death, but days like these knock the wind out of me. It’s like there’s moments where you just can’t catch your breath.

This is one of those. It’s like time just keeps moving and the more I try to rewind, the more it picks up speed fast forward ahead.

I know I’m not the only one who’s lost someone but I carry so much guilt and a feeling of responsibility.

Thank God for my daughter. My amazing family. A strong support system. A roof over my head. Food for every meal. A Heavenly Father who wants what is best for me and designed me for a very special purpose. I have a feeling that purpose is going to come in part from the past 6 months of torture.

Tonight I just needed to vent. Tonight marks 6 months since my sweet daughter saw her grandfather for the very last time. She could sit on FaceTime with him forever. I just remember having this heaviness that night. I felt like I could barely look at him. I’ve made a promise to trust my instincts more. I was living in pure denial and now my father is gone.

I wish I had some inspirational thing to put at the end of this but I don’t. I do want to say though, if you are hurting, if you feel alone, if you feel like the only way to end the pain is to leave this earth, please please please pause. Take some deep breaths. Reach out to someone immediately. Anyone. Call 1-800-273-8255. Things may seem so dark right now and so awful that you think there is no way out; that no one could care. I’m here to tell you that there is, there are better days ahead, you will get through this, you are SO SO important, valued, loved.

Tonight I lay here watching my beautiful baby girl sleeping peacefully, knowing not a thing about the harsh realities of this work we live in. How I wish I could protect her. How I wish I didn’t have to tell her one day that people’s hearts hurt so bad that they end up dying. I will make it my job as long as I am living on this earth to advocate for myself and individuals struggling with mental illness, invisible illnesses, whatever you want to call it.

On average there are 123 suicides every day. That is 123 too many….

Published by Kathleen Pielhop - Midwest Mama -Creator

I took over my father’s blog September of 2017 after losing his battle with mental illness. This blog was originally to share my journey through grieving, finding peace, and trusting God in the process...and in many ways is exactly that. This has evolved into life as a family of 4 with 2 dogs, living in the Midwest. I will cover everything from fashion to our family routines. Join us on this crazy adventure!

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