When you want to give up

I need to come out with something. I’ve been starting to share this with my friends. Most recently, I told some of my family. It has been a part of me for quite some time, but in the last few months has truly manifested in such a way that I could no longer deny that something was wrong. What started as a fleeting thought here and there is now broadcasting on loud speaker within my mind. I cannot ignore this any longer. To ignore it, to deny its existence could have dire consequences.

I have depression.
Correction: I have severe depression.
I also have anxiety and I am on the borderline of being diagnosed with a panic disorder.

There, I said it. For anyone who stumbles upon my page, I am sharing with you what has been haunting me for over a year now.

How can I best describe what is wrong with me? How do I describe how I am filled with guilt, despair, remorse, and my self-worth has reached rock bottom? How I feel like I keep screwing up with everything in my life. With my kids. With the people I’m closest to. With my job. With school. With life. Or how the pressure to be a perfect example to others of what it is to grieve, be a widow, be a single mom, a daughter, a friend, a sister, are all now getting to me. My friends would tell you they’ve seen it building up. Slowly, it started out barely noticeable. And now I can no longer keep up the visage of being happy and my thoughts, which started as a whisper, are screaming at me loud and clear.

How can I describe all of that and more?
An analogy that seems to fit how I feel is this: I feel like I am walking against the current, going upstream. It pulls me under over and over again. Others are along the banks. My friends, colleagues, family. Everyone moves forward on the bank alongside me. It is seemingly so easy for everyone to go on. Occasionally, they reach for me, but my hands are so slippery I cannot hold on. And most of everyone continues on, without me. Leaving me behind.

Every once in a while, I find something to hang on to. A rock, a branch, whatever. I lean on for a bit. Rest for a bit. But eventually the current is too strong and the rock or branch can no longer hold me. So I am left drowning. Again and again. The current only seems to get stronger as I become weaker.

Everything in me is telling me how much easier would it be if I just let go and get dragged under. One. Final. Time.

But there are four angels, keeping me from falling under completely. I am drowning in misery, but my angels give me just enough air to keep me alive. My lungs are on fire, but somehow my heart is still beating. These angels are my children. They need me as much as I need them. I keep holding on. I don’t completely let go. They are my saviors. My heros.

This extreme feeling of despair is not just because of my grief, but it does have a large part to play. It is because of a multitude of things. The pressure in various aspects of my life. The need to be everything to everyone and not being good enough. The realization that my life is forever altered by the events that took place over the last two years.

It isn’t just me being sad missing Scott.
Do I miss him? Sure I do.
Do I wish none of that ever happened? Yes.
But do I understand that it is something I cannot change and that this is my life now? Yes.

I will always miss him and always love him. That will never go away. My being has been shaped by the life I had with him. I would not be who I am today if it were not for the life I had with Scott. 

As I look back and evaluate my life, I realize that there are times where I have come very close to falling apart. Times where I am irrational out of fear and anxiety. I always found a way to cope. To keep moving on. But this time feels so much more different. The logical, rational side of me knows the truth that life is hard. Knows that I need to be here for my kids, my family, and my friends. Knows that Scott would want me to be happy in life and to have a fulfilling life. The logical, rational side of me is losing out to something. A force within me that makes me weepy, distant, out of place, tired, anxious, fearful, and defeated. My thoughts run a mile a minute in every possible direction. I’m scared of the things that pass through my mind. I don’t want these thoughts to be there, but somehow they are.This is something I cannot snap out of so easily. This is something that I will need time to figure out how to cope and heal. 

A dear friend of mine has been with me along this journey and has given me the best guidance I could ever ask for. She has given me encouragement and lifted me up. She told me that I will get better with encouragement, love, support, and gentle compassion from those close to me. She says I will get better as long as I am trying. While there will be things that will get me down, as long as I surround myself with people who understand not the why of how I am, but rather the what, and that they don’t give me reason to doubt myself or to feel negative about myself, then the healing process can begin and be a much smoother process. She says I will have my days where I’ll be not quite myself. These are the days I especially need a hug, a hand to hold mine, reassurance that things will be alright even though to me it seems that they aren’t, and if I am not totally receptive, presence of someone who cares may just be enough. I need reassurance that I am not alone, that the people around me won’t abandon me, and to remind me of what I am to them. My friend gave me hope. And right now, that is what I need the most. Hope.

Talking with her, I also realized what I don’t need. I don’t need to be pressured to explain myself. I don’t always know how to vocalize the thoughts in my head. Or it is too painful to vocalize the thoughts, to let it all out. I don’t need to be told to pull myself together, to try harder, that I have no reason to feel this way, that all of this will just pass, that I can just simply change it, that life isn’t fair, that there are people worse off than I am, that I am lucky to be alive, and so on. Saying these things do not acknowledge that there is something clinically wrong with me and I have a mental illness. Telling me that this is something I can just snap out of is like telling an asthmatic that there’s plenty of air to breathe when he or she cannot breathe. Telling me to try harder is like telling a diabetic that they can make an adequate amount of insulin if they concentrated harder. I believe I read this analogy once. I wear glasses. Can I manage without glasses? Probably. I could squint, move closer to anything I need to see, take a bus or taxi or catch a ride if I need to go anywhere. I could adapt and accept that I’ll never be able to see anything clearly again, such as the sunrise or sunset or my children in a performance at school. But why? Why try so hard to manage life when I could just put on a pair of glasses? No one would ever suggest a near-sighted person should just work harder. No one would say “Maybe that’s just your normal” to someone who needs glasses. They would say, “Let’s go to the eye doctor and get you a prescription so you’re able to see again”

You shouldn’t haven’t to try so hard. No one should have to. 

Being depressed, it will take me time, therapy, and perhaps medication. I have taken the first steps in trying to get better. Acknowledgement being the first of many. I need to learn to be forgiving of myself and to be gentle with myself. Just like an athlete with an injury, they will not force themselves to work through that injury because they know it will only get worse if they do. They rest it until it heals. They do not think they are a “failed athlete”, rather they understand they have to fix something and they will take care of themselves until it is fixed. Pushing hard through this depression will only make me more frustrated and hurt even more. I’m already frustrated enough that I lack energy to do the things I want to do. I am already feeling discouraged when my body is in pain and all I want to do is go to sleep. So for now, I need to take care of my angels and take care of myself. I need to take it slow and be easy on myself. And in time, I hope I can find myself going through my day without the demons within me bringing me down. One day, I hope I can walk along the bank with everyone else. One day, I hope I can be happy with myself and with my life.

Here are some resources that have helped me. If you or someone you know is depressed, these might help you understand and perhaps get the help you need.

This is a very good read if you are feeling suicidal. http://www.metanoia.org/suicide/

Another article for when you’re feeling suicidal. http://themighty.com/2016/02/the-article-i-wish-id-found-when-i-googled-thinking-about-suicide/

Wil Wheaton talks about medication to help with depression and breaks down the stigma related to being medicated. http://wilwheaton.net/2016/02/youre-not-broken-and-youre-not-weak-depression-lies-because-depression-is-a-dick/

A favorite cartoonist of mine writes very candidly, with cartoons as well, about her depression. http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2013/05/depression-part-two.html

A series of comic on what it is like to have depression and anxiety. http://www.upworthy.com/a-comic-that-accurately-sums-up-depression-and-anxiety-and-the-uphill-battle-of-living-with-them

Don’t know how to help someone with depression? Here’s a start on how you can: http://blog.ed.ted.com/2016/02/10/5-ways-you-can-help-a-friend-suffering-from-depression/

Does your significant other have depression? Here are some things to remember when in a relationship with someone who is depressed: http://www.relrules.com/5-things-you-need-to-remember-when-dealing-with-a-depressed-partner/

A list of things not to say to someone who has depression: http://distractify.com/fyi/2016/01/14/shawn-things-to-not-say-to-someone-with-depression

An article about anxiety: http://themighty.com/2016/03/hardest-parts-of-anxiety/?utm_source=Facebook&utm_medium=Mighty_Page&utm_campaign=MENTALHEALTH

An article from a favorite blog on grief: http://www.onefitwidow.com/widowhood-the-glass-house-of-grief/

Responses to the question: “What do you wish your friends knew about your depression?” http://www.buzzfeed.com/jamiejones/things-people-wish-their-friends-knew-about-depression?bffbmain&utm_term=.hspZpVqJj#.xaByONk3B

Life After Loss: Ready for Love?

Myth: We move on after the loss of a loved one.

Truth: We move forward. Moving on implies that the person that passed away is to be forgotten, left in the past, and has no bearing or influence on your life after his or her death. It is almost as if that person never mattered in your life. However, it is quite the contrary.

One of my fears, because of this myth, is that people may think that when I start date other men, that I should have moved on and no longer can grieve for Scott. However, having been through loss before, grief is a life-long journey, especially when it is someone you cared for deeply. The loss, at first, is intense and raw. Your world, shattered in those last few breaths, is irrevocably changed. Those first few steps in moving forward are nearly impossible to take. Gradually, with each passing day, your feet become lighter and the steps you take much easier to bear. The dark cloud looming overhead begins to dissipate and blue skies provide a ray of hope, a chance to see the good and beauty in life. Every once in a while a storm rages in. With each passing storm, we become more skilled, adept, and hardened to handle each new challenge that comes our way. Each person in their grief journey moves at a pace unique to his or her own experiences and personality. For some, the storms seem never ending. A torrent of rain, lightning, hail, even tornados, wreak havoc on their lives. They barely get by and often need support and help from others. For others, they breeze through it with seemingly little to no effort. Don’t let this fool you, though. While they handle grief much better than others, the pain is still there.

For me, I still feel the sting of pain from losing Scott. We had nearly 11 years together. Out of our relationship, came four wonderful children. I grew into the adult I’ve become with him by my side. The experiences, both good and bad, that we had together were unique to us and our relationship. Down to every argument, every gift of affection, and every silly moment, what we had was special. It is something I will never forget and something I will be grateful for having in my life. In his last year, I learned what kind of person I really am. In being a caregiver, I learned that my capacity to love and care for someone is immeasurable. I learned that I am, in fact, a very strong person in even the toughest of times. But I also learned that I am not meant to live this life with no one at my side. Scott saw this as I cried in his arms one day. He fully expected me to find someone. He genuinely wanted me to. He felt so awful and ashamed that he couldn’t live out a longer life to be there for me and the kids. Especially me. I think out of everyone he was leaving behind, he worried about me the most. He knew that I am a person who thrives on companionship, partnership, and love. He knew that I was never and will never be someone who can live her life out alone. And he once told me that he hoped I could find someone and anyone who would love me and his children would have his respect and blessing. It was a conversation no couple should ever have to go through, but we did. We had to.

While it may seem like not much time has since passed, it may as well have been a lifetime ago for me. My grieving heart, I feel, moves at a different pace than most. I was able to see this firsthand during group therapy. As I comforted one of my fellow grieving friends, I kept asking myself, “Why am I not like this?” “Should I be like this?” “Am I supposed to be a wreck, unable to move forward?” I watched the others in my group and realized that we all grieved differently. Some were more intense, depressed. Others quieter and introspective. Then there was me, finding purpose in comforting others, giving more of myself to others. I realized that while I do grieve, I also am moving forward. I’ve been making many positive changes in my life. Working out, doing races, karate with the kids, climbing a 14er, and so on. One of these changes include meeting other people and, yes, going out on dates. Is it too soon? Maybe. But maybe not. Do I dishonor my late husband by doing this? I’ve asked myself this many times and I was unsure at first, but I’ve concluded that my answer is this: no, I do not. I’d also like to argue that I am honoring him by doing this as well. He wanted this for me. He wanted me to be happy. He did not want me going through life alone. Furthermore, I know that if I allow myself to fall into a routine, I may have a hard time breaking that routine in the future to make room for socializing and dating. I would eventually be too comfortable in my ways.

Many people often say when you find the love of your life, your soul mate, that he or she completes you. I’d like to say that doesn’t describe what Scott meant to me, though. To say that he completed me would imply that I was not whole to begin with. Rather, I think he complemented me, in the respect that we were good for each other and made each other better. Semantics, I know. Where I was weak, he was strong. Where he was weak, I was strong. To me, that’s what made us work. When I lost Scott, I lost someone that brought the best out in me and even sometimes my worst. He was the one person I could truly be just me, genuinely me. All the masks were off when I was around him. He knew my dark side. He knew my crazy side. It is my hope that perhaps, one day, I can find someone who would do the same, but in his own unique way. It is my hope that I can love someone and be loved in return. I know that it won’t be the same and quite honestly, I wouldn’t want it to. But, what I do know is that I am ready to put myself out there, risk possible heartache once again, with hopes that someone would be willing to hold my fragile heart with care and love and understanding. Someone who would understand that he would share a part of my heart with Scott. Someone who isn’t there to fix me, because I am not broken, but rather to stand by my side and support me while I venture through this grief journey, knowing that I may have to pick up the pieces of my broken heart from time to time.

Six Months

Where do I start? I can't count how many times I broke down. My kickboxing friends allowed me to mourn as the reality of today sunk it.

Today hit me hard. Six months has gone by since we said goodbye to Scott. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him. I have found, though, that my emotions have really run high over the last month. At times, I find myself angry and other times I am just a mess. I have, however, accomplished much since he passed away. The kids and I have done quite a bit along the way. I can say, without a doubt, that we have had many happy memories. This grief journey, though, has been difficult. It wasn't until this last month that I realized how difficult it really is. New challenges have greeted me, only to be met with a sense of loneliness and anger.

I recently started group counseling for people who are grieving. While it has only been a couple of weeks, it is comforting to know I am not completely alone and that others share the same fears and pain as me. Also, the children have all been signed up for a grief camp this month. A three day weekend spent up in the mountains with other kids who are also grieving. An experience, I hope, will help them understand that they are not alone and that they can express their grief.

I, unfortunately, have not allowed myself to really grieve openly, especially in front of my kids. Something I need to change. Something they need to see me do, so they, too, know it is okay to grieve. I am hopefully making positive changes in our lives that will allow me and the children to start to heal. So that we can all begin to move forward, forever changed by the impact Scott had on our lives.

This Saturday, I will finally get to go on the bike ride I set out to do over a year ago. Scott will not be waiting for me at the finish line like he had intended, but he will be with me. I am nervous, but very excited to do this and am so thankful I will have Ginia by my side. This will be a testament to how far I've come in my journey to become a healthier, fitter person and to be the example my children need me to be.

I have a few days left to raise money for the B Strong Ride. Please check out my page if you have a moment:https://fundraising.active.com/fundraiser/MaryHooper