Maybe I do have a purpose after all

After two and a half years, I'm still not over my mom's death. Not that I'm supposed to be cool with it, but I've still not accepted it completely. I don't know how, no one ever showed me how to grieve and to let it go. No one ever told me everything's gonna be alright, that's just what I told myself, even when I thought there was a chance she could still be alive. I was never asked, by my dad or anyone else, how I was dealing with it or how I was doing. I did what I do best, kept everything inside and dealt with it myself. Nobody understands how much it scares me to open up and to bare my entire soul to somebody. I can't feel that vulnerable. I believe that if I act strong, then nothing can ever hurt me again. I know that's unrealistic, but that's how I cope. I pretend that I don't care, because if you don't care about someone, it won't hurt when they're gone or when they leave you. My dad thinks that I have nothing to worry or stress about, and even laughed in my face when I told him that I might be depressed. So....you see my history of sharing my feelings and why I'm so scared of it.