To Tell You The Truth

As I have struggled this past week and a half, I have found myself in a state that seemed a little too familiar. My Dad passed from cancer October 2003. But it all started 10 months before. He was terminal and as I heard the doctor say that to me, I knew I needed to spend as much time with him as I could. I think it all started that day.
I was beginning to see my therapist again, just wanting to get ahead of any depression or states like that before they really had a chance to creep back into my head. I thought I was doing so well. In looking back I saw through frosted lenses. When I think of all that time, that’s how it looks to me, frosted over. I was still trying to live, but was I? I spent most of my time with my Dad. I cut out of work early, and when I wasn’t at work, I was off to my Dad’s. I had three kids that needed me. One starting middle school, one starting high school, and one still in elementary. My kids had all been so good, and easy, that I thought it wouldn’t be a problem. I didn’t realize that what was happening to me, was happening to all of us. I was loosing my Dad, my kids were starting to loose their Mom. It was the beginning of a long journey.
I just wanted to be there for my Dad. But I had no clue that I wasn’t there for my kids. My oldest found friends that she shouldn’t have been around. She was doing things that would affect the rest of her life. My middle child was angry at the world. Any student that looked sideways at him or talked any trash would suffer with his temper. How my youngest managed without any negative effects is miraculous.
I hid my pain well. Shoved it somewhere and double locked, even triple locked the door. I held on and thought my life was moving forward, but as I look back, it wasn’t. Life was moving, but not my life. I was stuck in cement and everything was progressing around me. But I never saw it.
When the day came, he was gone, something happened to me. I still don’t totally understand it, and therefore I cannot even put it into words. The cement I was stuck in for those past 10 month was not just to my ankles, but over my chest. It was hard to breathe, hard to want to breathe. I was lost. Everything around me was different. Yes, I had lost friends, made new ones to replace them. Ones that could help me forge through the pain. For the following six months, I did anything and everything to numb my pain. Self medicating seemed to be doing the trick. I was at work all the time, my house was in order, bills paid. I thought I was right where everyone else had been. I knew at this point that life had passed me by, but I honestly thought I had caught up. Kind of jumped to my destination. Soon the medicating wasn’t enough, I had started cutting. That helped for a time too, disguised the pain to something physical that could take away from my heart hurting, from the emptiness, from the loss. I can’t imagine what I looked like from the outside. I was an empty shell of the person I once was. I knew this was not what my Dad wanted for me. He did not want me to hurt like this, hurt myself like this. I’m not sure what happened six months later. Did the medicating catch up to me? Did the reality of my kids needing me, and me being absent part of the time, find itself on my mind? Did the pain I had so greatly locked up, find a way out? I still don’t know. But … I crashed. When I didn’t think it could get any worse, it did. That state of mind is beyond words, beyond comprehension. I remember calling my husband at work. The next thing I remember it was a day or so past and I was in the hospital.
Oh God. How did I get this bad? I was overwhelmed to such a point, I couldn’t make sense of what was happening around me.
As I look back, it is still overwhelming. That road was so treacherous. I had to rebuild everything, my kids, my relationships with friends and family, my job, my life and my purpose. It took a long time. I can’t even say how long. I think it is still going on sometimes, the rebuilding, the reality. It’s an everyday struggle.
My Grandmother died last week as my father had. It’s been ten days. Parts of the day seem frosty, as they did in the past. Each day I wonder to myself, am I better, is the fog clearing? It’s not so frosty dense as it was years ago. The addict in me knows I have to use what I know to move forward. The easy ways of past are not an option, and luckily my despair is not what it was those years ago.
I hate that I struggle at all. I know God has that plan for me. Knowing that I can make it out of the fog, take off the frosted glasses, sheds some light down on me. I know it will get better.
Tonight as I was surfing, I ran across this post.
I hope after years of blogging I’ll be able to express my feelings as well as she does. She hit the nail on the head as they say.
Writing all this is helping, I know I’ll be alright. Look… I see just a hint of light right over there. See you in the sunlight…

~ by mamadubs on February 20, 2007.

4 Responses to “To Tell You The Truth”

  1. I just wandered in off of bloglog… I’m gonna add your link to my homepage “The Missing Blog” because your site looks interesting.


  2. Keep on keepin’ on. I empathize with your depression. It can be so powerful. Look around at how far you have come from when you last hit “bottom”. I always like to remind my friends that a good cry can release so much, and make the day easier. I wish you all the best!

  3. Wow. I can say that I have been down a very similar road, not the same. I know how hard and painful it can be and I can feel your pain in your words. I think they say “this too shall pass” but that is little comfort in the moment. You are in my thoughts!

  4. GO GIRL..KEEP ON TOP OF EVERYTHING…you are very in tune with your feelings and meds..and soon there will be a new lil person that needs you…We have always admired all 3 of your kids manners..attitudes, very feel towards others and it shows!!! you have not failed!!
    I asked my dad a few years ago when i can stop worrying about my kids..and he looked at me funny and says it doesnt work that way..funny how i would ever think after they get out on their worries would be over..haaha..they just multiply..esp with lil ones added to the families…but i guess that is LIFE in a nutshell..

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