I'll probably need more tissues...
I just laid down on my green, cat-scratched Ikea couch in my living room and cried.
Now, madanthony crying isn't really a shock - I'm the kind of person who gets weepy when people on TV shows die. But it's been a long time since I've had a serious, wracking-sob kind of cry. I don't really know how to deal with all the thoughts that are going through my head right now, but blogging seems like a logical way to get them out of my head and organized. Well, I suspect this post won't exactly be organized, but you know what I mean.
The seriousness of my dad's MS diagnosis didn't really hit me until yesterday. I had gotten an email from my mom a few days earlier saying they thought it was MS, but it wasn't until I talked to them yesterday- I've called them every Sunday since I was a freshman in college - and heard how upset my mom was. Hearing what they were told by the doctor - that they might have to sell the house that I grew up in, that they have lived in for 37 years - really hit me hard.
There are so many things I'm thinking. When I graduated college, I was eager to move away - I really didn't want to move back with them. Now I feel bad that I did - that I can't be more of a help, that I didn't spend more time with them when they were healthy.
When I think about the times I've been upset, they have usually been the people that I've turned to for comfort. Now I somehow need to figure out how I can reassure them, and I don't know how. I'm going to be up there in a few days for the 4th, and I want to make them feel better, which is going to mean somehow repressing the desire to burst into tears.
For a long time, I've had a sort of pragmatic distance with religion. I've tended to think that there probably is a God, because to me it's the only really satisfying explanation for the existence of anything, but I've never been quite sure of the details. I've kept worshiping in the Catholic faith I was raised in, but never been quite sure how much of it I believed. I always wondered if there would be something that would either tilt me towards believing more or giving it up. I'm wondering if this may be it - part of me finds myself praying, part of me wonders how a loving God could let stuff like this happen.
I can't help but think of all the things my dad won't be able to do anymore - like visit my townhouse here in Baltimore, which is pretty much all stairs. I don't know if he'll ever be able to take a vacation anywhere, or go to church, or run errands. I'm angry at myself for not living closer to them, not being around more, not being able to help them as much as I'd like. I'm angry that I've been single and childless while they were healthy - if I ever do meet someone and have kids, they won't get to know their grandfather as a healthy, normal person, and he won't really be able to play with them. I find myself watching TV shows and being jealous of the characters who have healthy parents.
And I'm trying to figure out if and how my life should go on. I've been exchanging email with a woman on a dating site I use - a cute blond who also seems to be smart, interesting, and ambitious. She sent me her phone number last night - I was going to call her tonight, but I figured I'd, well, sound like I was crying. I need to call her tomorrow night or she'll think I'm a total dick, but I don't want to burst into tears, and I need to explain that I might not be that available. Part of me thinks I should just forget about it at this point, but I also don't want to lose an opportunity to meet someone cool.
I feel like my life just went from being somewhat unhappy to completely miserable. The normal things that I've been unhappy about - career, dating, social life - aren't going to get any better, and this is going to get much worse. Of course, it's 1000x harder for my parents, who have to deal with it on a far more intense level than I do.