It's the evening before services for my dad. Tomorrow we have the funeral. I am not feeling sorry for the loss; he lived a good, long life...had six kids, raised seven, always provided for the family, took especially good care of me.
Some game nights he'd bring me books I'd forgotten, never questioned it. Never said no.
I find myself at a loss for words though. And feeling anxiety about...gaming. Like I'm drawn to games as a way of coping maybe, of dealing with the loss perhaps, of escaping briefly.
But listening to gaming podcasts, reading game books, watching actual plays...all of these things are giving me anxiety. Just thinking about games is making me anxious. Like I'm no longer capable of playing, or running a game.
It's a weird feeling, and I can't explain or fathom the correlation to losing my father.
Grief is strange in that way.
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