Hi, I'm so sorry your dad died. My mum suddenly and unexpectedly died three weeks ago and, yep, I'm still in practical mode. So I'm just waiting for the big wave of grief to hit me as currently I'm keeping a lid on it. Not sleeping much. Weeping occasionally. I know more is coming, I remember it from when my dad died 11 years ago when I was 33. Crushing, exhausting, overwhelming grief. Similar to yours by the sound of it.
Grief can be very lonely. No one can really experience it the same way as you, but finding someone to talk to really can help. Sharing memories of your dad, making a photo album of your parents best pictures, talking about your grief and the aching loss you feel.
If you want to just sleep, well, just sleep. That seems a great idea to me.
I'm going to say the obvious- it is easy to direct some of your anger at the unfairness of losing your dad, to a nearby target - your MIL. When you feel angry with her, observe your own emotion and try not to act on it. She may be being insensitive and crass, but just walk away or let your mind drift away from the hurt. It is not helpful to let that anger blow up into an argument you might regret later.
I've been angry recently. Angry at the lady at work who yelled at me over nothing.
"Don't you know my mum just died? Be nice!" I wanted to yell back.
Angry at my MIL who has been on a month's vacation in Europe, but didn't manage to find a moment to call me or write to me in the weeks since my mum died. Sent me a one line SMS on the day of the funeral, which she couldn't attend due to being busy sunning herself. "Thinking of you on this sad day x".
I forgive her. And I'll welcome her back into my home for the sake of my kids. I'll put on a birthday meal for her, and let my kids sing happy birthday to her. And push my grief into my pocket, somewhere down there with the tear-drenched tissues, and pretend I'm floating away, so I don't feel anything. Or pretend my mum just popped out to the garden centre and she will be back soon, just like my little boy keeps saying. "Gran come back soon, mummy. Gone long way away."
Im also angry at my husband who is acting like my mum hasn't died, doesnt mention her, doesnt ask how I'm doing, gives me a perfunctory hug if he spots me sobbing but clearly thinks that three weeks is enough time to pull myself together and, as you say OP, be over it.
The fact is I have stayed totally together - organising the funeral and sorting mum's house out , doing laundry, organising a Halloween sleepover for the kids, going to work, making packed lunches dinners, remembering to update the house insurance. I am so together it is starting to freak me out. DH, if he has noticed my state of hyper organisation, seems to be content to let me drive myself harder and harder. Even I can see I'm going to hit a wall soon, he must see it too. He doesnt try to stop me, he doesn't say a thing. He has no experience of grief, and I don't think he loves me very much, since doesnt empathise. I'm lonely too, OP, and it is a really horrid feeling.
My DH is hopeless, he has no clue what has just happened to me. My mum has gone. My best friend, my daily companion, my wise counsel. The person who got all my jokes, who knew my entire life inside out. A perfect grandma to my children. A perfect mother to me. Not a perfect person - I think only Jesus got to make that claim - but a wonderful lady whose absence is now mourned primarily by me.
I will never be over it.
Sure I'll carry on, I'll function, I'll exist. All the happiness will be etched with a dark shadow of sadness. All the laughter, a few blinks away from tears. I'll live alongside my grief for the rest of my days.
Without mum and dad, the two people on this planet who loved me unconditionally, I have lost something irreplaceable. Who will love me like that now? No one. I have to make do with carrying their memories in my heart and trying to live the way mum and dad would have wanted. To go on, facing forward not looking over my shoulder at the past.
So when that big exhausting wave of grief hits me, I'll try to remember the conversation I had with mum last year. "What will happen when I die? It will happen one day. It is not nice to think about that, I am afraid if I'm honest. And I worry about you and whether you will be okay without me," she said. "Oh God mum!" I replied. "I'll be an absolute mess for ages, but you know me, I'll muddle through. I'll be okay. I won't really lose you, I'll have you with me always. I will talk to you still, and think of all the little things that I would share from my day to make you giggle. I'll tell my kids about you, and your other grandkids overseas. I'll stay in touch with your friends, take cuttings from your garden, keep all your special things even though DH complains we have no space. It will be awful, obviously. I'll miss you every day. But, I'll be okay."
Give it time, OP. I hope you will be okay, one day, too.