I never thought this would happen to me...

Two years ago, my dad was diagnosed with liver failure, and I lost it, but we were told that he was a good candidate we just had to get insurance.  (Right because that would be easy)  Well we got disability, but medicare would have to wait for two years, so we tried to find insurance through other sources with no luck.  We applied for medicaid more times than I can remember, but each time we were told he wasn't eligible, because that totally makes sense.  At the time I was a delivery driver but I was denied food stamps because I made too much, (more bullshit from DSS) so my family soon had to struggle without food.  Yes we had food banks, but dad needed fresh stuff, no sodium, and you just don't get that stuff from food banks.  So I turned to begging people I knew for help because I didn't know what to do.  I finally managed to find a second job, and a few months later I picked up a third job, but by that point my dad's health was so bad that the constant doctor visits were taking everything I made.
 
My mom and I still prayed and begged for a miracle, and when the hospital started pushing for DSS to give us medicaid, we thought we were going to get a miracle.  Well among all of this strength, my uncle was shot and killed by his wife's boyfriend (And yes I know how screwed up that is).  A week before thanksgiving, and we were burying a man that had been trying to make a better life for him and his wife.  A few weeks later, dad stopped eating.  He had done this once before so I picked up a couple of his favorite foods, thinking that if I could get him to eat something, he would realize he was hungry, but I was wrong.  A few days later, he was groaning in pain, not very coherent, and so we took him to the hospital, who then sent him to his main hospital.  He was there for two weeks, and we knew it wouldn't be long but we kept praying.
A week into his stay, DSS finally approved medicaid, and the same day we found out he was no longer eligible for the transplant because his kidneys were shutting down and any kind of surgery would kill him.  They told us he had six months.  MY fiance and I decided to find wedding stuff, he wore a cheap suit he found and i wore a cheap wedding dress, and we went to the hospital so dad could see me.  He was mostly coherent that day, and told me how beautiful I was and that he would wear a tux to my wedding (Something I always picked him on him about because he didn't wear one when he and mom got married).  But when I left the room, he told my fiance to make sure to take care of me (Something I found out the day my dad passed)
My dad came home on December 23rd of 2015, he celebrated Christmas with us, and then on the 26th, he passed away while I was at work.  WE were told 6 months and got 3 days.  No one in my family is doing well with it, but I have pretended to be okay because I had a wedding to plan, and I couldn't cause more stress on my mom who is barely holding it together.
 
I have no outlet for my grief except to write, and to cry when I am alone.  I have no one to talk to about it, and I am spiraling down into a depressive hole that I may never crawl out of.