Darkness

As much as I want to keep this blog positive and upbeat, I feel as though it is also necessary to tell the story of the times that are the furthest from positive, because no story is complete without the times of crisis. When I tell people my story and I maintain my smile and happy demeanor, they assume that it is always that way or that it always has been that way. They praise me for how I am handling large amounts of stress and emotional upheaval. In a span of 5 months my child was diagnosed with autism and my marriage came to a separation. I am carrying massive amounts of grief. And I often want to scream. I want to yell at everyone.

There are mildly sad days in which I can distract myself and perform small acts of self care like taking a bath or plucking my eyebrows to get myself into a brighter place (you know you’re old when you consider plucking your eyebrows bright and happy). Then there are the other times. During those periods the only choice I have is to sit in the pain and sadness and let it pass through me. There is no distraction. There is no soothing. There is no cheerful music to lift me up. There is only withdrawal into myself. And grief. Sometimes I can predict these moods. And I can launch myself in face first and let it come so that it happens on my terms. Have I mentioned how much I crave control?Sometimes they come out of nowhere. Those are tough. Those are days when if I’m lucky I can make it home before losing it. I really hate crying in my car. People can see me…and eventually I have to get out of it.

I have taken numerous psychology courses and studied human relationships for almost 20 years. Yet I always thought that grief was linear. You pass through each stage and move on. I had no idea how wrong that notion was. I had no idea that the tiniest little thing could cut right through me unexpectedly. And 3 years later there are still days that see me crying and huddled on the floor. There are days when my child watches as much TV as he wants so that I can get through until bedtime without having to really think or function. Thankfully these days are not often. Thankfully I have people I can call and text to help. Not everyone is so lucky. I hope that you recognize that grief happens in strange and unpredictable ways. Be present for friends and family members when their grief and depression are stubborn and abundant.