Sometimes it was pitch black and sometimes it was an awesome day. Years of torment, endless cycles, treatment, over and over again. I suffer from manic-depressive disorder. Medication helps but I sometimes find myself feeling hopeless. My last suicide attempt landed me in front a psychiatrist who had treated hundreds like me. It was the result of many years of self help.
Where do we go from here? When all hope is gone, what do we do after the worse has happened? I remember when I was a child and our large families would come together, my dad and his brothers would go out into the yard to kill chickens for the feast. They'd quickly wring their heads from their bodies. That was the way of things at that time.
25 Years After… On the 7th May 1989, our only child, REBECCA took her last breath and flow to Heaven. Only four weeks earlier, we were celebrating her 17th birthday. We were so happy. If somebody would have told us that our daughter will be dead in less than a month, we would have thought he was out of his mind. She looked so full of life, gorgeous, lively and energetic.
There are many shades and depths of loss, whether it is a friend, relative or acquaintance. When Tim was a teenager, his best friend, Jake, was killed in a freak car accident. Every year, Tim would go out to Jakes grave on Jakes birthday. He would sit beside it and talk with his friend.
“Well, no I don’t specialize in grief specifically but with my many years of experience I’m confident I can help you,” said the counselor on the other end of the phone. It had been 18 months since we lost our daughter Aly, and my husband and I were caught in the black abyss of sadness and hopelessness. I was finally ready to wave the white flag and seek help.
In these months of loss, I have found that grief is such a tiny word for what has happened and what is happening. There are no words to express the deep changes and profound hurt. We struggle on a daily basis to bring out that most of horrible feelings, but words fail us. Loss of a loved one has no comparison, yet we try to express it anyway. Searching for someone who understands.
Have I ever said, "I hate Thursdays?"...
A year ago today, my son was diagnosed with a brain tumor.
Today Thursday, May 15th 2014.
30 weeks ago, my son passed away;
It was Thursday Oct 17, 2013.
On this day, I remember Brain Tumor Awareness ,
in the month of May.
It's been over 4 months now that Tim decided to leave this world. The moment I saw him, I changed. I changed so drastically, I don't remember who I once was. I will never walk in that person's skin again. They no longer exist. Not that there isn't some basic personality left, only that preconceived Ideas, thoughts, what I believed, changed the night I found Tim dead.
