my thoughts in bare

I survived the days when it felt impossible to breathe, the nights I cried myself to sleep, the anxiety attacks, and the random breakdowns when he was still here. I survived the funeral and kept myself busy taking care of everything that needed to be done. I survived the silence that came after all of that. But one thing I realized is that the version of me who was still waiting for her father’s validation, appreciation, and acceptance was left behind. The things I waited for so long never came. And up until now, I still find myself wondering if I was ever enough in his eyes.

I've been watching some video clips on social media about families who are battling with their loved ones who have Dementia. They seem to handle it so well, and it makes me wonder, how do they do it, and for how many years? My father started showing symptoms in October 2025, but he was only officially diagnosed with Dementia around January 2026. After that, his health started to decline so quickly. His symptoms got worse, and those seven months became the most depressing and lowest point of our lives. We tried our very best to understand his episodes and took care of him during the days when he could no longer take care of himself. Most days were filled with chaos, exhaustion, and tears. Lately, I've been thinking about whether we really did our best. I've been asking myself if we gave up too easily during the days when we had no choice but to tie him for his own safety, and during the time when we had to leave him in a mental health facility for two weeks. I even find myse...