Christmas morning the kids woke me up with excitement to open their stockings. This is our tradition on the Christmas days Buddha works. It would be cruel to have the kids wait until dinner time to open all of their gifts! I usually spend months before keeping my eye out for fun and meaningful stocking stuffers, this year I had let that go. The kiddos were happy with what they found, but as they went through their stockings it was one more reminder to me of how the big D was taking hold. I can be a competitive personality when it comes to doing my best and it killed me to see I was losing.
Next we headed to the shelter. The sun was out shining bright and I just cursed it in my mind. I felt like Gizmo from Gremlins.
We arrived to the shelter and were given the task of setting the tables which started with rolling the silverware/plastic ware in napkins. The kids were not too fond of this job, but I did have the capacity to express the importance of setting a nice table for the folks coming to Christmas dinner. Despite that moment of clarity I felt like was falling apart on the inside. The doors were open and the chaos began at the shelter and in my mind.
The kids ran the beverages. Cole manned the thermoses and poured the drinks while Mia delivered the drinks to the tables. All told there were about 125 people in the room so the kiddos had a lot of work to do. In the meantime, I helped run food to the tables. As I laid each plate in front of each person I felt like I was getting the life sucked out of me.
Eventually Cole helped me serve plates as well. He noticed that all of the kids were in a different part of the room along with their families and that food was not getting to them. Different plates were planned for the kids and the kitchen wasn’t turning them out yet. I could tell this bothered Cole. Seeing all the kids wait while the other part of the room was enjoying their Christmas feast. At one point, Cole asked if I was going to do something about it. I’m not sure what he had in mind, but that is where my son knows me so well. Traditionally I would have found a way to get them served faster or started a game with them to pass the time and make it fun, but not today. This tank was empty and had to keep some reserves to use for the next hour. I knew I had limited words to leave my mouth and I needed to get us back home.
I had little flashes of the past while at the shelter. I had faces from 20 years ago flood through my mind. Situations I hadn’t thought of in years and frankly didn’t remember until those moments in the shelter.
Volunteering is about giving, but let’s be honest it is also a time to reflect on how blessed we are for what we have in life. There are times that I have used volunteering at events for my kiddos to see how fortunate they are and that nothing can be taken for granted. So times like these haven’t been completely altruistic. For me on that Christmas morning I couldn’t see any of my blessings. There were times I felt like I should be the one sitting there in the shelter as here I was unable to appreciate what I had in my life. There I was in a room where I would bet many of the people we were serving would be grateful to have one day in my life! And there I was numb to every moment of my life not able to see what I had.
Later that day Buddha was home, we opened gifts and then it was time for dinner. Buddha to the rescue! He decided to make homemade pasta. I watched as he pressed the dough through the machine and I watched as the machine didn’t cooperate. I watched as his face got red and the frustration built. I watched as an F-bomb left his mouth. I knew as I watched that the energy going into the pasta and the words coming out of his mouth were more about what he was witnessing in our house. I was slipping and it was a lot more than he had ever seen!
Days later my parents arrived and so did a cold to my head. At first I thought it was a saving grace as it would cover up what was going on inside of me. This was the first time my parents were coming to visit us in Georgia and I wanted there to be good memories. The cover didn’t last too long, the rain began to pour outside for the rest of their stay as the rain began to pour further in my brain.
Buddha pushed me to drive my parents to the airport the day they left. Oh the energy it took! One of my dear friends here was having a birthday movie and dinner later that day which I committed to going. As I drove home from the airport I tried everything to bring some life into my body and I actually felt something, a spark! I walked in the back door to my house started a load of laundry and off to the party went. I saw and felt glimpses of myself that afternoon. A little hope was starting to grow. The next morning I actually got out of bed and went walking early with my friend. I had another spark. I remember thinking, “I’m climbing up. This will be over soon!” Upon arriving home and shutting the door, I felt like my body was going to collapse. And that is where it went even further downhill! Bummer…false hope!
The weeks that followed consisted of sleeping, going to the bathroom, a handful of showers, and time sitting and staring out! I couldn’t handle television, music and to look at words on a page was like attempting to read a foreign language. Days, weeks and a month went by. I could pull my jeans off of me without needing to unbutton and unzip. Food and water wasn’t something that ever registered to partake in. I know I ate when dinner was served but apparently not much!
Phone messages, text messages and all the to-dos were piling up! I couldn’t handle hearing the ring of my phone. I saved my energy for the phone calls from Buddha. I wasn’t hiding from him, but I was still protecting him as I wanted him to continue to go do the work he was loving and not be stuck in what was going on at the homestead. That man is no dummy though. Eventually he used his Emory card and got me in to see a doc ASAP! By the way, it isn’t easy to get into to see someone when you are in the state I was in. There are waitlists, weeks to wait for an appointment, it is insane! Now if I was purely suicidal I could go to the ER, but they would stabilize me over a day or so and then I would probably be sent home. Mental health care SUCKS!
Suicidal, yes I said it! Was I…yes, well to an extent. I thought about not being here anymore. Thoughts of maybe it would be better for my kids, Buddha and family as they would not have to go through this with me. At times it felt like the only way out of this game of Ground Hog Day! But, I believe God has planted experiences in my life to know that isn’t the solution. I have the experience of losing people to suicide and the emotions and questions that go along with it. I could never put someone in that place. It would kill me. Well I guess I would already be dead anyway (okay, bad joke). I know it isn’t the answer or the solution, but I do get how people end up there and feel it is the only way to end the torture. I would take on all of the pain of the big D before putting someone else in the place of a suicide aftermath. Now, this is not to say that I condemn or judge people who have attempted and been successful with suicide. We all have different experiences and journeys. Mine have put me in a place where suicide would never be an option. I count myself lucky. For others their eyes see it as the only option. Do not judge until you walk in their shoes.
Boy do I have a story about the psychiatrist I saw. What an experience, so much so that I need to save some energy to write about that one. At this time I will simply say, after spending a 1.5 hours with me he raised his hands in the air and said, “Well let me tell you what I think. You are in the midst of a major depressive episode sprinkled with some PTSD.” PTSD! Well that is a new one! In regards to his conclusion of major depressive episode I wanted to say, “You don’t say Sherlock!”
I could go on and on which I will probably do another time, but before ending I want to address something. I have heard from many friends and family members who have offered for me to talk to them during these wretched times. I received texts during this last bought from friends questioning if I was okay as they felt like I had been quiet and missing. I did read the texts, but found it very difficult to respond. Not because I felt the need to cover up what was going on, but I couldn’t formulate words in my brain and then type them out. Do know that the reach outs were helpful and welcomed. I had friends here in Atlanta that I had to clue in as to what was going on with me. Not really by choice, more by necessity.
So how do you help someone who as at the bottom and struggling to inch back up. I don’t have the answers for all, but maybe some of these can help.
- Send a message letting them know you are there and care.
- Drop food by their doorstep, they may not eat it, but their family will
- Continue to connect to them even though they may not be attempting to connect back.
- Don’t judge
- Don’t expect there to be a jump start. Yoga, meditation, a walk, a good laugh are all great things, but sometimes impossible to do in the depths of it.
- Sometimes just offering to sit in a room with them with no expectations to talk. Human contact is a powerful thing.
There is also a lot of humor that comes out of these times as well. Like…the case of the itchy nipple. Stay tuned…
Rise & Shine
Rise and Shine Girl Blog 