I think that I am still in stage one. It's not so much the shock or denial, just the numbness of it all. I feel like I'm not in my body. That I am just here, going through the motions. It feels like nothing else really matters, I just don't care. I think about my dad all the time. I go back to when I was really young or as I was older. I have a picture ingraved in my head of holding his hand while we walked down the street in downtown Fairbanks when I was about 3 years old. I believe I already brought this memory up but it is the one instilled in my brain that makes me happy. The one where I felt like nothing in this world would ever hurt me, because I had my dad there. I just remember being happy.
I don't cry much now. I think I cried more when he was still alive, after I got back from Alaska in June. After I saw how confused he was. After I saw how he really was. I believe that is when my "grieving" started though.
You know, maybe I've passed the first 3 stages of grief though, but maybe not. I've gotten angry and I'm not anymore. I've felt the guilt and I don't now. I honestly feel like I'm waiting for the storm to hit though. Like I've been doing "ok" but something big is going to happen. For the most part, I'm not isolating myself too much though and I do talk with a few people about everything.