I’m waiting for someone to wake my up from this nightmare. I want to wake up in Bradley’s childhood bedroom on January 22nd and everything be fine.
My life took a turn for the worst on January 21. My dad was admitted to Saint Elizabeth’s ICU after suffering a stroke. A week into his stay we found out he had another stroke in his brain stem which explained why he never woke up.
I can’t explain to you the pain I’ve felt since getting the call my dad was in the back of an ambulance. Bradley drove through the night and we got there just as the sun was rising.
Like I mentioned, my dad never recovered. They’d try him on spontaneous breathing trials and things would look good but he’d never listen to the doctors commands. I sat by my dad’s side and played his favorite music. I read him some of the blogs I wrote where I talked about how important our relationship was. 
My dad hugged me goodbye 12 hours before he had a stroke. He told me he’d see me soon and he’d cashapp me a few bucks in the morning. Little did any of us know.
Taking my dad off life support made me sick. I knew that those were his wishes which he’d instilled in me from the time I was sixteen. He advocated for me in my most vulnerable moments so now it was my turn to go to bat for him. After the nurses and respiratory therapist got him comfortable, we were able to go in and say goodbye.
It was hard. Listening to what sounded like his snores that once filled the tiny apartment we lived in brought me to to tears. I got to say a few things to him alone while everyone waited in the lobby. I will never share everything I said but I did promise him two things:
1. I would never stop writing
2. I’d be sure to find a therapist
A part of me died on January 29th.
I don’t remember going home or getting into bed. To be honest, I think I spent the next three days drunk and blacked out from crying so hard.
Losing my dog and dad in the same month felt like getting the wind knocked out of me and not being able to come up for air.
Just when you think you’ve turned a corner
A few days after I came back to New York, I was in Target. I was scrolling aimlessly as I walked around the Home Improvement section. An obituary flashed across my news feed. One of my best friends had died.
Our friendship had drifted and I blame myself for that. I never made an effort to go see her or offered to take her to an appointment. I harbor a lot of guilt in the sense of I could have been a shoulder to cry on.
Al and I worked together at Ulta for about eight months. She loved the Bruins and I did too! It made me really excited that someone as pretty as her would want to be my friend.
We spent countless nights at each other’s houses hanging out doing makeup and gossiping. She was so fun to be around. No matter what was tossed her way, she was smiling and finding other ways to make people happy. 
I miss her every single day but I know my dad and Lilly are taking great care of her.
I don’t remember when the panic set in. Maybe it was the day the said all non-essential travel was halted. Maybe it was the day my mom said she was moving into campus at work. I can’t remember.
I feel so selfish
COVID-19 has thrown a wrench into everyone’s lives. I can’t begin to express how thankful I am for each and every person out on the frontlines, healthcare workers especially.
I feel so selfish right now because I can’t see my family. I used to be able to pick up and drive the five hours whenever I wanted. Now, I don’t know when I’ll be able to hug my mom.
The one thing that’s driven me insane is that I haven’t been able to find a therapist. I’ve been searching since February and no one was taking the bait. Now’s a pretty sucky time to be without a therapist, huh?
I’m guilty of bottling up my emotions. My parents used to call my a soda bottle because you could fit so much inside me, stuffing it all down, and then one day it’d all come flying out. I notice that’s happening with me now. There’s only so much I know how to do as an individual. Being in and out of therapy since the age of six has paid off, I guess.
What I’m getting at here is that the lack of mental health resources in this country is sad. What makes one provider unable to take this insurance over that one besides a few letters on a diploma? Is that even the deciding factor?
Navigating so many life changes without a strong compass is scary. I’m keeping my head above water but not without tears shed.
I’m homesick. I miss my rat dog and my brother drinking milk straight out of the jug because he knew no one else wanted it. I miss Mary Lou’s and Deag’s Diner. I miss my friends. More importantly, I miss what my life was before 2020.
The light at the end of the tunnel
There’s a level of uncertainty everyone is facing right now. To say we’re anxious for our lives to return to normal seems like a massive understatement.
All we can do now is learn to adjust to this new normal. For now, open up your windows and take in some fresh air. If you’re like me in any capacity, you’ll need to take an allergy pill before opening up those windows.
My mom told me this won’t last forever and she’s been right every time when she’s mentioned it before. Hang in there.
Jessica Belmosto 