I always tell myself that I will keep my blog up to date as best as possible and it never happens. The main reason of why I even have this is because I do a much better job expressing myself through my writing rather than expressing it verbally. I have always been this way. When I was a child, I wrote stories and newsletters and columns, all fictitious of course. Everyone always figured I would grow up and become some kind of writer or journalist though I have yet to commit to it. I love to write stories, create worlds that allow us to grow our imaginations, relate to experiences and emotions that we all feel, in the chance that someone doesn't feel alone...I have been told numerous times that I have a way with words....whatever that means. All I know is I do enjoy writing and having the option for self expression through writing a story. I hope to someday effect people through something i've written but until that day, I'll continue to write on here in doubt that anyone ever reads it. I've actually been writing a "love story" for close to 3 years now that someday I will allow for people to read.
Anyway, the passed little while, my life has been a chaotic mess. As much as I do not want to grasp the fact or come to terms with it, I suppose I have been dealing with the burden of depression. I didn't really pair it together in my mind until someone mentioned or rather posed the question if I was in fact suffering from depression. My immediate reaction was, UH NO. I'm not one of those insane, depressed lunatics who are sad and throw themselves pity parties and want for people to be empathetic towards them. Then, it hit me. All i've done in the passed couple of months is lay on the couch, Olivia watched tv and I just sat there. My house was a mess, my thoughts were a mess, I cried often, and had been struggling a great amount with unhappiness and the inability to be content with anything. Turns out I fell into a very sad and deep depression without even realizing it and the brunt of the force was hitting Olivia. She had began to act up, developed an awful attitude and temper. After my "epiphany" something else hit me as well. Olivia had lost her mother. The guilt was excruciating and I hated the fact that I had put her into the situation that I had. Now, honestly, it could have been worse. It could have been much worse, however, I felt enough guilt for not being completely embossed with her that I was extremely upset with myself. The entire winter, we hardly left the house, we didn't play outside, we did nothing. The next morning I awoke and realized the month of April had began and I had practically missed the last 6 months. Obviously I took care of my child, fed her, clothed her, bathed her etc but I was missing in action for the most part. I decided that day, that that was enough. I had to work through my mind, my emotions, thoughts and concerns ASAP. The next thing I knew, I was dropping Olivia off at her grandparents house and I was on my way up the side of a mountain. I found a place to plop myself on a giant boulder and as I viewed the incredible landscape, I became enamored with my view. This world is incredibly breathtaking and we are blessed with some amazing luxuries. That is when I asked myself why had I allowed myself to sit in my house, on the couch for 6 months? I decided that I may have been suffering from parts of PTSD (Post traumatic Stress Disorder) Throughout my life, I have suffered from a very un-healthy disorder. The inability to express myself, my thoughts, feelings, and emotions. Instead, I threw it into the dark locked case inside my mind and filed it away until there was something else I needed to store there. After Ian passed away, I did just that. I didn't feel, I grew numb, closed off, and was thrown into being a single mother immediately. I had no time to grieve, no time to feel and access and suddenly it is 3 years later and it felt as if I had just lost my husband. The feeling of total abandonment and loneliness was so overwhelming, that I could hardly function in a day. I had nothing to say, nothing to express, and nothing to do. This was NOT me. I have been very loving, kind, compassionate and all of this was gone. I was mean, sad, and furious at life. Everyone seemed to be moving on with their lives, getting engaged, having children with their families, growing their families and creating incredible memories together and then there was me. Nothing was happening, nothing was going on, I was lost, alone, and extremely sad. As awful as it sounds, I was irritated with these people. I was upset when friends would speak about their husbands and families. It was unfair that I had to be in this situation and it was unfair that I put the blame on anyone for it. In a sick and twisted sort of way, I wanted someone to feel pain and despair just so they would be able to relate to me. That is the most awful feeling when I think about it, because I would NEVER ask for something so catastrophic to happen to the people I love and care about. I will always be effected by the events that have occurred in my life, I will probably always suffer from abandonment issues, but I know that I can overcome those emotions, and I know that I can feel happiness. I have come to peace with the fact that it is okay to be sad. It is okay to be upset and angry, and even despair, but after you feel those emotions, you move on. You move onto the positives you have in your life, the events that allow for feeling such emotion. My eyes have been opened, my rose-colored glasses have been removed and that tunnel vision I once suffered from is gone. I want to make memories, and create incredible experiences with people I love and care about. Trauma and trial will always occur, but I know for a fact that I have made it through the most excruciating time, so no matter what I face next, I will prosper.
