Hi, my name is robin. I'm new here and don't exactly know what I am doing but I need some help. Coming up in about 2 months is the 2 year anniversary of my dad' death. I feel like have been handling it ok but I am realizing recently that I am extremely angry and depressed and medication doesn't help. I hate talking about my feelings, especially to my family. I had a really bad experience with therapy years ago and refuse to try that. But, I realize now that I need someone, or somebody, or something. I am not new to blogging, I lived overseas for a few months this winter and blogged that whole time and find that I am much more honest and free when I write.

I don't know what anyone else's story is but here is mine.

My junior year of college I started to have health problems but no doctors could tell me what was wrong. I just settled in to having a life of strange nerve and joint problems. Christmas vacation came and went like normal. Holidays with my big family are always a little crazy and I went back to school in January 2010 ready for my month long J-term that my school offers. The day I went back to school, I drove myself because my mom had a completely reutine test at the hospital that my dad took her too. She went in to the test and while my dad was waiting he starting to feel terrible. He had gotten a cold over the holidays and it was just getting worse. He felt so terrible that he went over to the ER of the hosiptal and got checked out. Something was really wrong. A few days later I got a phone call saying that my dad was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. They said it was nothing so I didn't need to worry. A few days after that, I was sitting in my dorm room and I got a phone call. It was my mom. Her voice sounded rough and strained. She told me that the doctors had found something in my dad's lungs. It was a tumor. He had cancer.

I had no idea how to react. My mom said that she had talked to family friends who lived a few hours away from my school and that they could pick me up on there way to our home in a few days. I said sure, that is fine. A few hours past and I lost it. I couldn't wait daysa to be with my dad, my family. I called my friends and told they not to worry, I was grappling a bus the next morning.

Things got really bad, really fast. Dad was brought to Dana Farber in Boston and the diagnosis was given. He had an extremely rare cancer.

After surgery to remove a tumor the size of a rugby ball, dad had chemo and radiation, and finally it was enough. He left the hospital and came home.

He died 6 months after being diagnosed.

My dad was my life. He was the parent who knew the best, we were so much alike. He was my hero. My rock. And he gave up. He promised me he wouldn't and then he did. I can never really understand the pain he was in and it's not rational to be angry with him but I am.

How do I get past this? Can I? I am so lost.