My Letters to You

Messages to my brother and father

What Bothers Me

It seems like everything does. At least it seems like it because all I post is me complaining. Me being sad or depressed. Maybe not a lot of angry posts but there have been a few. And I guess a lot if not most things bother me.

The easiest way to set me off? Telling me to just get over everything. Or to tell me I’m handling everything extremely well. I am far from handling it and I am far from ready to get over everything.

When my brother passed I was always angry with little remarks. Mom would constantly remind me that people didn’t know what was going on but it still irked me. I’ve been trying to keep that in mind with the last few months. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

I was telling my friend from my previous job about my doctors visit since she asked. I said she diagnosed me with depression.

“Yeah well do does everyone else, hate to break it to you.” this woman intervened.

I chose to ignore it and told her more about the visit.

“Get out and walk, you’ll feel better about your life. And stay off social media. Get over it.” the lady scoffed at me.

Now I know this lady didn’t know what was going on because i kept my mouth shut about the actual events these last few months. She doesn’t know and doesn’t need to know so I kept the details out of the conversation. And while I bit my tongue and kept from saying what i really wanted to, it got me wondering.

If you don’t know the full story and your imput wasn’t asked for, why say anything? You obviously have no idea what that person is talking about. So your advice to go for a walk isn’t really helping. Going for a walk isn’t going to bring my brother and father back. It gives me too much free time to think about them and leads to me breaking down.

Then if people do know about the situation, “you’re handling your brother’s/  father’s death pretty well” comes out. It has been almost 5 months for my brother, just hit a month for mt father. Do you honestly think I can function right now?

Most days I’m stressing about if last night was the last time I’ll see my mom. If I’m going to come home to another unexpected death. I panic excessively about losing my mom now. I drown in guilt over not checking up on my father that morning. I’m swallowed by sadness of the missed opportunities that I passed on with my brother and the years I was robbed of growing older together.

I am in a constant cycle of my emotions. There’s barely any sleep anymore. There’s raw eyes and a snotty nose after spending part of the days crying.

At the end of the day I need to be a functioning human being on society. I need to smile and play nice, pretending things are ok. I am far from ok. I am far from handling things.


Once again I disappeared for awhile. It… I should’ve known coming into June that this would be a rough month for me. Having my birthday come up (2 days from Dave’s 6 months), with father’s day the following week, and my parent’s wedding anniversary at the end of the month… June doesn’t seem like an amazing month. Even at this moment it’s past midnight and I can’t sleep. I need to drive my friend back to the airport to be on her way in a couple of hours.

While it was nice being on vacation, it didn’t help the massive panic attack and mental breakdown I had on my birthday. It was expected. It didn’t happen until I tried to go to sleep. I just kept waiting for texts and calls that will never come again. Not to mention every store I walk into has a million signs for father’s day. My heart hurts every time I see those signs. My friend literally pushed me out of a store as they tried to sell me things for my father and made my face drop.

I’m not exactly sure the point of this post. Maybe just to… talk.

Two Months for Pops

I’ve been busy this month. It’s been a long, long month. Not to mention I haven’t had the motivation to actually write anything on here. The empty feeling has returned.

All the time I find myself listening to the voice mails dad left me. Even if they are almost 3 years old. He sounded the same so I don’t mind. I’m really not looking forward to my birthday in a few weeks.

I won’t get a birthday call/ text from pops. No random cat picture from my brother with subtle hints from me that it’s my birthday because he forgot. I’ve been dreading it all year long.

No Anniversary Posts

I realized on April 26th that I hadn’t done a post for my dad’s one month anniversary. And since I never missed my brother’s, it was always on that day, I didn’t think it was right to post one almost 4 days late for dad.

Yesterday was my brother’s 5 month anniversary (I keep calling it an anniversary because I have no idea what else to call it) and I didn’t want to do one for him and not dad. So I’m just going to skip his 5 month to make up for missing dad’s 1 month.


I can’t function very well. I can barely sleep, my head is constantly pounding, stomach is upset almost always, anything that can ache does. Not to mention I’m jumpy and having a lot of panic attacks. I’m seeing things that aren’t there. I feel like I’m losing it.

My doctor had me fill out a questionnaire about depression. Scored a 17 out of a possible 27. Seems rather high. I asked to talk to their therapist on the premises and she gave me some things for depression and anxiety.

While talking to her she said that my depression didnt sound like it just came on. And she’s right. But how do I tell her, or anyone, that the man I’m grieving over is a large reason for it?

For 25 years it’s been one jab at me after another. You’re not smart enough. You’re worthless. You’re useless. I don’t know why you’re even trying, you can’t do anything. All you do is fail. You’re making yourself ugly with the tattoos. You’re ugly. You’re fat.

Most of these were by multiple people over my life. Most, if not all, were said by my father. I never seemed to do right by him. I was never good enough for him no matter how much I tried. There was always something to nitpick.

I could never mention my feelings to him. If I felt he was being a bit harsh “suck it up. Grow thicker skin, not everyone is going to be nice to you”. Forget about telling him I was upset. “Get over it. It’s all in your mind. You have nothing to be sad and upset about. Your life doesn’t suck. You’re too young to be complaining about life.”

When depression did come up for one reason or another (like someone he knew was taking anti depressants). “Depression is a weakness. It’s not even real. Only the idiots who can’t handle life have to rely on pills.”

Pretend to smile and say everything was fine when inside I feel like a complete failure everytime i wake up. That I am a hideous, horrible human being. I’m too stupid to function and is there even a point of trying anymore.

In the end though, it still hurts me to have him gone. Because even though he wasn’t the greatest dad and we had our ups and downs, he still cared. He was protective of me and all the other siblings,  he’d bond over backwards for me any day at any hour of the day. He helped teach me to learn new skills. He made sure that I had everything he never had growing up.

He was still my father but it seemed with the way things were going, it was time to ask for help.

Not a Fan of My Brother’s Friends

Not a big fan of people normally. I’d be happy with never talking to most people again. This includes 98% of his friends. There are some of his friends that I’ve known for so long I wouldn’t cut them out. Like his best friend since the second grade. I practically grew up with him. And there are a few we both went to school with and know. I’d continue talking to them.

The rest…. I could live without. If I never spoke to or was contacted by them ever again, I’d be completely fine with it. Mom wouldn’t be and wants to keep them in her life. “Cause David would’ve wanted that.”

I honestly don’t think he’d care. Most of them have lied to us by now or gone back on their promises of helping us out. They cared for a few weeks. Now that everything is said and done, they couldn’t care less.

I’m just not a people person. They sure didn’t help with that.

Those Aren’t Tights

On Easter, I simply wore shorts covered in dried paint from when I painted my room several years ago and a plain T-shirt. Normally I’d dress up a little bit. I normally do for the holidays. They’re special occasions I like to look nice for. Not so much now. They no longer have that meaning to me. I’ve said it multiple times already, I don’t want to celebrate holidays anymore. They’re not the same and they never will be. I want to treat them like just any other days. Nothing special anymore.

Getting back on track, I am an incredibly pale human. Casper the friendly ghost is darker than me. They don’t even make makeup pale enough for me (that I have managed to find at least). So needless to say, my legs are just as blindly pale and white.

One of my aunts commented on how smooth my legs looked. Since they were freshly shaven they should be fairly smooth. But it made me remember when I wore a skirt a few years ago.

I walked outside on one of my days off to talk to my dad who was sitting in his beloved car/truck/SUV at the time.

He squinted at the sight of me. “Are you wearing tights?”

Confused I looked down. Had I forgotten that I had put on tights? “What?”

“Are you wearing tights? Where were you able to find tights that were so white?”

“I’m not wearing tights dad.”

“Oh my god. Those are your legs? You’re that pale? Get some sun!”

I’ll never know why he was so amazed I, his flesh and blood, was so extremely pale. I spend most of my time indoors since most time outside causes me to burn bright red like a lobster. He hated that about me. That I couldn’t make friends let alone any that wanted to spend any length of time with me.


When my grandfather passed on 12/12/13, we all (about 14 of us, the whole extended family on my mother’s side) went back to my grandmother’s house after the wake and funeral. We had dinner and reminisced about the good time with gramps. It was my mother’s father. By then both my father’s parents had already passed.

So when my brother passed away we decided to do the same thing. His services were also on the 3 year anniversary for my grandfather. We all once again went to my grandmother’s place.

Our limo driver got us lost twice in the cemetery and then once on the actual road. It turned out that that was his first day on the job. By the time my parents, sister in law, and I arrived most of the people were leaving. It took us an extra 20 minutes to get there. I know people have lives to get back to but I was so…. disappointed to not remember my brother like we planned on.

Well when we got the news for dad, I said I didn’t want to do it for him. My mom was asked by my aunt a few days later if we were going to do anything after the funeral. Mom said she’d ask me about it and was very upset when I gave a hard no.

“We did it for your brother, we should do the same for your father,” my mother sobbed, choking on tears.

I asked,  “Why are you so hell bent on having one for dad?”

“Because it’s not fair to do it for one and not the other. I feel like we’re not giving him the same respect. It seems like we don’t love him as much.”

Bitterness. That was all I could feel right then.

“You know no one is going to stay for very long. They stayed 20 – 30 minutes last time. They won’t stay much longer this time. And you know what isn’t fair? Seeing everyone with their whole, intact families. Our was already incomplete. It’s been broken twice now, within a four month span. No one else is suffering like we are. No one else there will be down two people, half of what they were. I don’t want to be reminded of what I no longer have. What I can no longer get back.”

Most days I end up grinding my teeth when people talk about having “the best big brother in the world”, “I don’t know where I’d be without my brother”, or “your brother is your best friend for life”. The same bitter, saltiness comes when things about world’s greatest dads come up too. It’s no one’s fault but I can’t help it.


First holiday without the two most important men in my life. I didn’t want to do anything today. Just wanted to treat it like a normal Sunday. Easter is one of those holidays that has no specific date. It makes it easier to forget and not be bothered by it. During the holidays I should just stay off social media since it’s just post after post of said holiday.

Mom is making me go to a brunch with her side of the family. The only side we tend to deal with. She wants me to go since no one has seen me since dad’s funeral. There’s a reason for that. I can’t see anyone with the hours I work and I’ve purposely been avoiding them.

I’ll put on a happy face for mom’s sake.

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