I don’t like to keep complaining, but I guess I have a reason to. So I’m going to just up and say it, depressed Lanna is depressed.
Now, this doesn’t mean that depressed Lanna doesn’t have fun. I had a good weekend hanging out with Trisha. I enjoyed going to Southern Maine Pride. I can have a conversation without bursting into tears. In fact, I can have a conversation and laugh and have a relatively good time.
My temper is much shorter. I take things more personally. Sometimes I might over-react about something. (Might.) (Okay, will.) And having fun takes so much more effort.
And really, it’s only been 3 months since Dad died. It seems like forever ago. But I don’t even think it’s been 90 days.
I just want to snap out of it.
And I’m afraid that I haven’t even come to grips with what Dad’s death means. Every time I think of the implications – no 4th of July party, his absence at Thanksgiving and Christmas: I start panicking.
No Dad trying to get out of wearing his teeth, “I didn’t forget them, I know exactly where they are.” No Dad teasing Mom about how “It must be that Guilford Education.” Or eating a delicious meal and smacking, “It don’t get no better.”
So be it.
It really fucking sucks.
I suppose it will get better.
Tapping my foot.