I had my first session with a grief counselor today. I called hospice looking for a group and they suggested I start with an individual counselor. I think they send you there first because they want to sift out the crazies before welcoming them into the group. I'm going to start the group next week. I guess I fooled her.
I spent the entire hour crying and apologizing for being pathetic. It was incredibly cathartic. I got validation that the circumstances surrounding my father's death were pretty awful and traumatic, that I was treated horribly by my sister, that I have a right to grieve just as much as people from normal families, that all of my conflicting feelings are completely normal, and that I have a lot on my plate what with the cat dying, boyfriend breakup, MS, full-time job, single parenthood, yada-yada-yada. Apparently, my self-esteem has taken quite a beating and I need to give myself the time and support I need to grieve.
Who knew I didn't need to be Ms. Pollyanna Superwoman every single moment of the day?