It's been over a year since Moe died. I'm still subject to spontaneous crying jags. Little things will set me off - a song, the Baskin Robbins where we used to go for ice cream after her gymnastics classes, news of how the institutional discrimination against the LGBT community is crumbling. I suspect I'll be subject to these triggers for the rest of my life.
But really, I'm not the best judge of my own mental health. I still take Wellbutrin for depression in addition to my standard anti-anxiety medication. For the most part I sleep pretty well. And people who care for me and I trust tell me that now that I'm past the first year they believe I'm doing better.
As for me, I believe that some days are better. I've started to take an interest in my own health and well-being, where before I couldn't bring myself to care. I can laugh and enjoy events. I don't hate myself as much now as I did before. I'm trying to find things to look forward to, and enjoy the anticipation. And I'm trying to resume writing.
And some days aren't. I still have some trouble with focus, concentration on complex tasks, and occasional aphasia. I still blame myself. I still have nightmares. I'm still wearing the same raggedy old slippers which are several years old and worn down to the nubs because Moe gave them to me for Mother's Day and to replace them would be a betrayal of her memory. I'm still showing a lack of interest in learning new things. Sometimes I still I despair at my own failure. I have days when I think my volunteer and charity work are futile and mean nothing in the larger scheme of things. Days when I still want to crawl out of my skin because doing otherwise means I have to accept that she's dead.
But the only thing I can do is keep moving forward, one agonizing step at a time. Moving toward the light.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
<3 <3 <3 Love to you, my dear. <3 <3 <3
Lots of love and support to, my friend. ((HUGS))
Big hugs and warm thoughts, dear Janiece.
Yogi
Warmth.
Peace.
I know...
We are adjusting all while "kicking and screaming"
Love you...
Still in my thoughts, Janiece. Some times the only way out is forward. One foot in front of the other.
Post a Comment