I don’t know what kind of blog this is. But I just need to vent I guess. 

I’m moving out of the house that I’ve lived in for 13 years and it’s getting harder everyday. Seeing the empty rooms, all the changes we’ve made to the house.. it’s hitting me really hard. 

I miss my dad more than ever. I keep thinking about how everything has changed since he’s been gone. I walk into his old room and I remember him laying down on the bed, watching sports highlights or the Big Bang Theory. I can still hear his laugh in my head. I remember coming home past midnight, listening for his snores to make sure I could go upstairs without getting yelled at for coming home late. I stand in that empty room and just cry. His bed is gone, his clothes are gone. It’s been 7 months and I still can’t believe he’s gone. 

Our house is getting sold within the next month and I feel completely lost. This place doesn’t feel like my home anymore. I’ll be downstairs and catch myself saying “I wanna go home”. The vibes are different and I hate it. But ever since my dad passed, my whole life hasn’t been the same. I’m even going on different vacations just so I don’t have to be here. And so I don’t have to be alone. I’m going to Hawaii, camping, SoCal with my friends. Usually, I would stay home and relax but like I said, this doesn’t feel like my home. I need to get out and distract myself so that’s what I’m doing. I don’t want to go out so much, but I have to if I want to stay sane. Distracting myself from the reality. 

My mom has been in the Philippines for the past week and I’m dying without her. She’s the only parent I have left so its weird when she’s gone. I love that woman so much. I’ve even decided to pack up my life here to move to Sacramento with her. I don’t want too. I’m not happy about it at all. If I had the choice, I would stay here with my family, my husband, my best friend, my squad and my niece. But my dad taught me that you have to sacrifice for the people you love. And that’s what I’m doing. My 3 sisters all refuse to go which is okay. I’ve learned that everyone has different hearts and priorities. Family has always been the most important thing in my life, just like my parents. My dad wouldn’t want my mom to be alone. After he passed, I told her I wouldn’t ever leave her and I plan on keeping that promise. I can’t imagine the pain my mom is going through. I’ve been depressed since I found out my dad was sick. And since he’s been gone, it’s gotten worse. That guy was the love of her life. Her whole life was revolved around him. Taking care of him, making him happy. He was her best friend. If I lost my best friend, I would be a complete wreck. The pain I’m feeling is probably 13729 times worse for her. So I’m going to be there for her, through it all, even if it sucks. 

I guess I’m going through it again. I’m realizing I’m stressing, mostly because I have no control over my life. I’m trying really hard to make everyone around me happy. And it’s draining me emotionally. But it’ll get better. Maybe when my mom comes home or when I’m in Hawaii, not dealing with all this bullshit. Now I’m gonna try to sleep all my problems away and hopefully get a visit from my dad in my dreams. 

<3

Since the last time I wrote, I’m doing a lot better. My depression isn’t so bad these days. I felt more happy in the past two weeks, probably because I finally saw my friends who I haven’t seen since the end of December. 

I can’t begin to explain how important friendships are. A lot of people say to keep your circle small, which is exactly what I do. But I am so blessed to have 13 of the sweetest, funniest, most caring people you’ll ever meet. 

They’re the friends who will know your sad and send you long texts to let you know that they’ll be there for you whenever you need. They’re the friends that are there for the good times, and especially the bad. They’re the friends that will be down to do anything and even be down to do nothing, as long as we’re all together. 

In October when my father passed away, my friends showed up to both memorials, with no invitation whatsoever. I didn’t tell them, my sister didn’t tell them, they just showed up. They didn’t even know my dad, but they came and supported us during our hardest time. 

It’s kind of a beautiful thing, strangers meeting and clicking instantly to form a bond that can’t be broken. These people have become more like a family to me. We’ve done some pretty fun things together. Concerts, vacations away from home, sleepovers, countless parties. And we support each other through everything. Basketball games, new jobs, better opportunities, we are always cheering each other on. 

I haven’t been able to see them as much as I like because of the depression. And because a certain someone is crazy and doesn’t like when I go out. But being with my friends makes me happy. Some people don’t have a good ass group of friends like me, so they don’t understand. They don’t understand the need and want to be around people who care and love you, who make you laugh and smile. Who are just genuinely good people, who are positive about everything in life. I’m blessed to have these friends. Random appreciation post for my squad. ❤️

Missing you.

I’m not the type to let things get to me. I’ve always been strong. I thought I was stronger than this. But the one thing that could break me finally happened. 

On October 13, 2016, I lost one of the most important people in my life. My amazing father. And since then, I’ve changed. I feel like I’ve completely lost myself. I remember being a happy person, smiling no matter what. Always wanting to be around people; my friends. My family especially. These days, I dread leaving my bed. If I didn’t have to work, I would stay in my room for days. 

It started in August 2016, after my father had been put on hospice care. It was the worst news because that means it was it. The fight was over and there was nothing else we could do. But being my faithful and religious self, I thought a miracle would happen. We went to the doctor with him to hear it for ourselves. The whole family. He told us two months is all we had left with our dad. Still, I brushed it off. My dad was a fighter, God loved him and our family, a miracle was going to happen. I never accepted the news of my dad’s sickness. Never. 

The morning he passed, a social worker came to check in with my sisters, my mom and I. She wanted to see how we were coping with things. I didn’t tell her about how I was getting addicted to percocets, a strong narcotic that made me feel happy during the hardest time of my life. I took them more because I felt emotional pain. I didn’t tell her I smoke weed every chance I get to feel numb, 5-6 times a day. She sat there and explained what was going to happen during his last moments. She said he’ll slowly get cold, his skin will change color, his eyes will go back and the most obvious is that he will be breathing hard and fast, his throat will be making a raspy noise. She said she’d come back to check in after he passes. We had no idea it would be that day. 

I was in the shower and I heard multiple knocks on my door, once from my uncle and again from my sister. I hopped out, got dressed and ran downstairs. My dad’s bed was moved to the middle of the room so we could surround him. It was happening. I started crying as soon as I walked in. I went over to him and told him I loved him so much. I stood right next to him, watching his spirit leave his body. At exactly 3:00, he went home. 

That day traumatized me. Not only because I saw my father lose his battle to cancer but also because everything I believed for the past 16 months was bullshit. I prayed. I prayed every second of the day. I believed and kept my faith through it all. And I was let down. I question everything now. My faith, my religion. Believing in God was what got me through the hard times. Now I have no idea if he even exists. I hate myself for saying that, but my dad was supposed to be healed and he wasn’t. 

I get so jealous when I see people who are way older than me that still have both their parents. I was watching a movie a couple weeks ago, American Beauty. It was about a man who was miserable. He hated his job, his family wasn’t very loving. He just hated his life. He made changes to his lifestyle, his outlook on everything. He finally found happiness. He was happy. In the end, he ends up getting murdered. Not the same situation but my dad was damn near stressed his whole life. He went through hell as a kid and did everything he could to take care of his family. After finally becoming a happy person, a nice person, a person loved by everyone around him, he got sick. His life was cut too short and I will forever by upset. People always say, “time heals everything.” I find it to be the complete opposite. The more time that goes by, the more I realize that this is reality. That I have lived 109 days without my dad. And that I still have a whole lifetime to go without him. 

I know he’s up there, watching over my family and I. I know he’s with his parents, his mom who he loved more than anything. And he’s with God, who he couldn’t wait to meet. I hope Heaven is everything they say it is. A place with no pain, where everyone is beautiful and happy. I can’t wait to be there. Can’t wait to see my dad. Can’t wait to hear his laugh and feel him give me one of his comforting hugs. I can’t wait. 

Until then, I’ll try to stay strong. I’m doing everything in my power to not break. Whether it’s listening to music,  forcing myself to go out, even doing drugs. I’m doing whatever I can to ease the pain. But I promised my dad that I’m going to make him proud. I’m going to finish school like he wanted. I’m going to take care of my mom. And I’m always going to have a relationship with God. Even though I will never understand why it wasn’t in his plan to keep my dad with us. 

Rest In Love to the best man I’ve ever known. Love you with all my heart daddy.