Dear Tammi,
I haven't responded to any of your threads before this one, though I've read them all and added my prayers to the bunch.
My father died in August, 1995 after successful surgery for esophegheal cancer. You know the joke, the surgery was a success, but the patient died. He had a pulmonary embolism in recovery. It was best for him, given the prognosis, but worse for the rest of us. I stayed with my mother till after the funeral, and by then my feelings were buttoned down so tight I couldn't begin to find them. You are doing *so* much better than I did.
Two and a half years later, when my blood pressure was something like 195/140, I finally gave in and agreed to see a therapist.
I *really* didn't want to go. I felt I should be able to handle everything myself, and didn't want to put myself at the mercy of someone I didn't know.
My first visit was with a psychiatrist, who evaluated me and suggested a therapist for a first meeting. There were serious alcohol issues with my father, though the word alcoholic was never mentioned till after he died, and I think that's why they suggested the therapist I ended up with. After our first meeting, he asked me if I thought I would be comfortable working with him, so I gave it a shot.
He provided me with a way of looking at things that I never found on my own. He helped me with the grief (and anger) that I didn't want to admit, much less deal with. I didn't always like it - or him, but it really helped me work through a lot of things.
Many years before that I saw a therapist for two or three sessions and really hated her, so don't settle for the first person you meet with - if you decided to give it a try.
Just take care of yourself.
Hope this helps a little.
Kathy