He responded by asking, "What's wrong? Why are you depressed?" If I cry it doesn't mean I am depressed. Even if I were, that's okay. Well, not really. It's not healthy to be depressed but it is healthy to cry. It's healthy to feel your emotions even when those emotions are negative ones like sadness, fear and loneliness. And actually, crying is intended to make you feel better, physiologically. So when I cry please don't assume I am depressed. I am actually really happy with many aspects of my life but I AM sad and overwhelmed right now.
So, some history remiss of all those complex details: My life turned absolutely upside down when I was 28 years old. My sons had just turned one. My marriage was failing or realistically, had already failed. I worked full time outside the home just to make ends meet at a job that came with a ridiculous hour-plus long commute, each way, in the snow. Seriously! I was exhausted and struggling emotionally. If that wasn't enough, my daddy, my greatest support and my hero, commit suicide. At the same time my mom was critically injured by him. I was unfortunate enough to be the one who got to experience this tragedy first hand, as it happened. I am considered a secondary victim to the crime. It was crushing! It was the WORST day of my life and I can see it in my head like it was yesterday. I was left with no support system and virtually no help. Most of my extended family was absent from my life at this time for whatever their reasons were which left me to care for my sons and my mother, work and grieve this tragic loss of my daddy alone. Grieving the loss of a loved one who's life ended by suicide is it's own complex monster that I could write a ton on itself. And it totally sucked. There is no nice way to say it.
I was a single mom of 13 month old twin boys. My mom sustained critical injuries that left her hospitalized for 4 months and when she was finally released from the rehab I was her primary caregiver. It took additional surgeries and quite a lot of time for her to heal. So I turned to God and food to comfort me along this difficult life path. And, good or bad, they both did their job. I gained a huge amount of weight and renewed my faith in God. I'm not sure how I would have gotten through that time period without God and the power of prayer. Unfortunately for the boys and also for me, I really don't remember that time period because I was on autopilot. I don't remember them. With tearful eyes I have to say that I don't remember their "firsts" nor did I write them down because, at the time, remembering them wasn't a priority. Getting up and living was. Caring for them and giving them all the love I could muster each day was all I could do at that time.
So, when the boys were about 2 and a half I finally got to where I knew I needed to take back my life. I started working on me and had lost almost 80 pounds through weight watchers and exercise. Boy, it was hard to lose that weight but in retrospect, it was quite easy when the boys were that little to eat right and exercise. I got my life back. Woo Hoo! I met my current husband when the boys had just turned 4 years old. We got married two years later and things were going well, with me, with them, life was good.
Both my mom and my Daddy struggled with mental illness. I can't say if it was nature or environment but most likely a different combination of the two for each of them. I guess to some extent I do too as do/will my sons throughout their lives. When the boys were about 8 years old my mother really started struggling again with her illness(es). As a result of this, her personal choices and her prior injuries she started exhibiting symptoms of dementia which was eventually diagnosed as early onset Alzheimer's. Two years ago this past January she had declined so much that my brother and I decided that we had to put her into a residence for such patients as we could no longer care for her to the extent that she required. She hasn't remembered who I am for about a year, a year and a half now but she is safe and generally healthy and is the happiest I have ever seen her.
So as all this was going on with my mom, about 3 years ago my big brother, Brian, got sick. Brian underwent a ton of testing over a five month period and basically it was determined, erroneously though, that he was having an ulcerative colitis flare up which he was plagued with as a child. However, on December 6, 2011, during a surgery his diagnosis was changed to Stage 4 colon cancer. I can't even begin to explain how his diagnosis changed our lives. A little over a month ago, on May 4th, he lost his battle, 6 weeks before his 42nd birthday. He fought longer and harder than I ever could have fought. Despite his illness, or maybe because of it, my faith in God has remained strong or perhaps has grown a bit. Brian and I were blessed with an amazing opportunity, a true blessing: the gift of time since I left my job to help care for him. I am truly grateful that we were given this time together and, as a result, grew to be much closer because of his illness, forgiveness and God. We mended our relationship and built it up even stronger. And, as a result, there is so much more of him to miss!! I am broken-hearted.
Unfortunately, I did go back to comfort eating as Brian declined. That coupled with a knee injury that required surgery and has permitted only limited mobility/movement since last August has not been a good combination for me and my weight. Otherwise, I am doing pretty well I think but, in truth, some days I can barely hold it together. When I think about my loss, both the recent loss of my brother and the other losses I have lived through over the last 11 years I feel very much alone, scared and sad. There is little left of my original family pod. Though, for my current family I need to take back my life again and I am working on that right now.
