I've been sitting here looking at my computer screen, then keyboard, then back to the screen trying to fight back tears with writing this.  I know this is the only therapy that I can take right now regarding this.  As much as it hurts right now to even think about today, I know I have to recognize it.  It wouldn't be right.

Today, my Dad would've been 72 years old. I miss him so much. I wish he was here to just tell me Chanda, everything will be okay! But he's not. Sometimes I feel like I don't have anyone to talk to about this, even though I know my husband will listen. It just doesn't seem like enough. Can't talk to mom because we don't get along. Don't want to bother friends or other family members with my tears and emotion. So I sit here and type. And hope that this feeling goes away!

I've had a rough time these last couple months emotionally. I don't know if in the back of my mind, I was preparing for today or not, but it's been rough! I've also had people fuck me over to the point where I can't trust anyone anymore, other than my close family. I'm just looking for that glimmer of light at the end of this long, dark tunnel. 

My dad passed in October, 5 months before my daughter was born. That was almost 9 years ago. Everyone tells me that it'll get better with time, but it's doing the complete opposite. Every year is harder and more emotional than the previous one. I miss him so much! I'm sorry for any typos/misspelled words. No proofreading today. Kinda hard.

Happy Birthday Daddy from your baby girl,