Alexandra Norrskèn (N.S.) (lantichristo) wrote,
Alexandra Norrskèn (N.S.)
lantichristo

Unconditional Love.

10:00
Dear digital diary, peeping Toms and friends from all over.
Lately my posts consist almost only pictures.
My real Diary is actually empty since February 2010 (yeah I have a digital and a manual diary, whadayaknow I still write with pen on paper)
This entry is different ... it was actually words ...

I am trying not to talk about father's death as much as possible. The less I talk the less it hurts.

Now, writing about it, is an exception.
I want to explain to many of my friends why I've disappeared. Why I don't write or call. Why, even though I am around, I do not really "connect"
And I know you want a personal letter. To feel I am saying all these things to you, and only you. To feel special.
But the fact of the matter is, I want to share this with all my friends. I want them to know.
I don't really know if I am ready, but today it was the first day I woke up normally and not with cold sweat, biting my tongue to wake up from a nightmare.
So this is the letter to all of my friends who feel left out. Who feel I haven't been good enough friend to them because I don't write or call. I want them to know. I want to prepare them.
 Those who have lost a parent know best and I don't need to say anything to them ... but of course, there are always those who had no real bonds with their family so they don't give a crachadoodle, and I am happy for them because they will never have to feel this pain. And believe me it is the worst pain a heart can feel. The loss of a parent. A person who knew you all your life. A person who carried you before you were born. A person who loved you ... unconditionally. And unconditional love basically means : "I love you no matter what and you don't have to love me back"

I am using a lot of energy right now to write this. I need to concentrate otherwise I will break down.

12:07
I am writing less because writing makes me think, and thinking makes me think of my father. And when I do, it is bad. I keep getting these flashbacks. It is like ... Have you seen the typical soldier character in a movie who comes back from some terrible war and he is traumatized and keeps on having flashbacks and nightmares? I am sure you have. Well, this is how my life has been so far since the day my father died in my hands.
I keep getting these horrible images of my father in all those operating tables, were I had to be present to translate for the doctors. Were I had to hear him scream in agony. Were I had to see him being poked with needles and weird instruments. Were I had to see him bleed and suffer. Were I had to hold his hand but I couldn't because both his hands and arms were filled with needles and cables and tubes and when he screamed "bloody murder" I could only grab his foot and squeeze with all my strength and at the same time I had to translate and tell him where to turn and how to breath and explain what they were doing to him. And I had to refrain myself from crying and I had to be cool and strong like feel nothing. Otherwise if I would let myself take over, I would collapse and I would not be of any use to anybody. And all this time I could only think: " what is the point? HE is going to die anyway. Why don't you let him die?"
In one of those occasions, on his third biopsy. There was a needle several inches long pushing in and out of his liver. The doctor was trying to find the lesion to pick a sample. And this was quite hard both for the doctor and for father. Father's hands were swollen from the iv's and since they couldn't find a vein anymore in all the obvious places they had him in a weird position with his arms over his head hanging awkwardly back and sideways with the iv's pocking strangely under his arms and he was screaming in pain through his teeth with eyes shut tight and I has holding his legs trying to calm him down and I was looking at his face with this terrible expression of pain. And I couldn't talk to him anymore because there was a machine near his head making a low noise and the doctor needed quiet to concentrate and of course I couldn't yell.
So all of a sudden, in this chaotic moment with the doctor stabbing father with his huge needle looking at his liver in the monitor ( yes I had visual of my fathers insides too) and three nurses trying to keep all the tubes in place and my father moaning in agony ... I heard a baby crying it's heart out outside the room. Really REALLY loud, like really small baby's do!!!
MY heart raced. I became so fucking angry withing a split of a second. I felt my blood boiling in my veins. I thought my brain would explode. I felt pure fury! I felt that in a moment like this, being under so much pressure, sure, I could commit a murder in a blink of an eye.  I wanted to get out and slap the eyes out of the asshole mother who brought that THING there. And I was screaming inside my head: "As if it wasn't enough all this torture we are going through, I have to deal with a fucking baby crying as well. FUCK YOU!" But I looked at my father and to my surprise ... he was smiling ... And he had this almost calm expression on his face, for the first time in those last 12 hours of tests and operations and tubes up his ass ... His face was calm just for that moment. And he whispered: " ah little baby! Oh my soul! A little baby! Ah sweetheart!!! Music to my ears Sweetheart!!! "
I felt like a a small flaming match must feel if you'd pour a bucket of frozen water on it ...That THING, that baby, that infuriating sound, made my father happy at this dreadful moment. IT calmed him. It made him smile! So I though : "Cry you little shit. Knock yourself out"
So ladies and gentlemen, I present you a man who really loved children.
My father.
I don't think that any person who does not genuinely love children, would have THIS reaction to a baby crying in a moment like this.
And I am not talking about any breeder who decided to have a baby because they are vein and because they want to see their kind live on after they die. No. I am talking about a person who genuinely, truly LOVES children.

13:32
Yes my father loved children and he loved us. In spite of his outrageous, terrible character and his annoying habits, and even if you don't give him credit for anything in life, one thing he did right. He loved us! More than we loved him. Unconditionally. Because he loved us despite everything. He wouldn't hold a grudge no matter what I said to him. Even when I told him I hate him!

You do not find unconditional love with strangers. No matter how we'd like to think so. Your boyfriend/girlfriend will not love you if you don't love them back. She or he could be stuck with you for whatever reason but they will not love you unconditionally. After your parents are gone, You are alone in the unconditional loving buisnes. You are the only one who will be there for you. If that.

I know my boyfriend will be angry if he reads this because he says that if I die he'll die, and shit like that people who are in love say.
I think he is lying to himself. I don't love him unconditionally. If he'd stop loving me, I wouldn't love him back. My love would fade in a snap of my fingers. I felt this after my father died.
The only thing you can hope for is to never stop loving each other. But I am beggining to have my doubts for my relationship anyway.

14:32
I do not know how to deal with death. I never did. Lately the only way for me to sleep is to watch movies until 05:00 -6:00 in the morning and then go to bed exhausted. But then I wake up five hours later and I am tired angry and cranky.
Why don't you take medication? You'll ask. I think taking medication without being diagnosed with anything serious by a licensed doctor after a few years of observation, is pathetic.

Most people who say that they are depressed they are just very sad. There are 3 stages to sadness. 3rd being depression. Most people when they reach level 2, which is what we say : the blues, they think they are depressed and they run off to a doctor and stuff themselves with antidepressants (or placebo's) and they have a story to tell about their boring life by the water cooler. " I am depressed. My doctor prescribed me with this and that ..."
Meh ...
You do NOT get to SAY you are depressed when you really are depressed. You smell bad, because you do not ever shower, you lose weight , because you never eat and you have muscle cramps because you hardly do anything apart from getting out of bed and going to the toilet. THIS is depression.  YOU, got the blues. Like I do now!  So I am not stuffing myself with pills. Fuck that. I am stronger than that. I do not need medication. I don't even take birth control pills because I want my body to be free of anything unnatural. I won't take medication for an imaginary disease.

Well don't get me wrong. I am not a scientologist. I am all FOR the medication when there is real need. Hell, my mother is bipolar. I KNOW how important her medication is! But taking pills to go to sleep I can't do right now.

14:51
I am really really sad ALL the time! And I get these crying attacks, were I start crying and can not stop. And I HATE it when it happens in front of people. Like in the buss, on the street, in the supermarket, at a pub ... because it can really come at ANY time. The one minute I might be talking smiling laughing with friends, talking about whatever ... and the next second my eyes are filled with tears and I don't know what to do ... It drives me crazy ...


Well, this was not that bad ... but I think will stick to picture posting for a  while. It takes less strength from ME and it does not make YOU feel sorry for me.
As for the one on one and the special personal communication (without the public eye of the peeping Toms) ... well, it will come in time ... just let me put myself together. Till then .. enjoy my pictures.

à tout à l'heure
Tags: after my father's death, dear diary, family, my father's illness, sad, writing
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