I’ve been waiting around here for days waiting to feel better and feel up to writing. I said a long time ago on my previous blog that I would never write when I was emotionally down and depressed. Depression is an illness that I battle regularly. While I take a boatload of medications that help to keep me levelheaded there are some days that my thought pattern is just too dark. Those are the days that I promise not to come and share those dark thoughts with you. I’ve had about three weeks of those thoughts. Those days aren’t good for me. So I know they aren’t good for you.
I finally opened up and talked with Ron about what was going through my head. As he always does he listened to me pours my heart out. He had me pegged. But he also knew that if he tried to tell me what to do to make myself feel better he knew I wouldn’t do it because someone TOLD ME TO. He knew I would need to make the decision to change myself. Unfortunately I’m very stubborn. I don’t like to be told what to do. And I ESPECIALLY don’t like to be told what to do by my husband. I do have a little bit of a problem with that whole submission thing. He gave me broad ideas. I can take that. That also gave my mind a little something to do. The weather had gotten nice. So, getting outside and soaking up some sun did wonders. I did some housework. I walked. I went on a photography session with the farm next to our neighborhood. I took a shower and got ready. When Ron got home from work we went out to eat and then to the store for a little shopping. I also slept much better that night. The next day was about the same.
It all came down to grief. Grief affects every area of your life for as long as you let it. Ron told me that my dad knew that his purpose in living through all that he battled with cancer was to inspire me in fighting mine as I had told him at Thanksgiving. But since his death the day after Christmas my life had come to a stop. I wasn’t leaving the house. I was barely showering. I was letting myself go. Ron told me Dad would be disappointed to know that I let myself fall apart when he left. He had gone to receive his great reward thinking he’d fulfilled his purpose only to see me give up.
I can’t let that happen so up I jumped! I’m back to my life. Somedays I think I’m over the grieving process but then the next day I’m overcome with grief and tears. One day I think “Whew, this grieving this is over” but the next day I think “Oh my word I’m gonna cry for the next 50 years”. It’s a roller coaster. When does the ride end? I really need it to end. I’m trying to hang on and keep my wits about me. But I’m ready for the car to slow down so I can anticipate getting off the ride and getting back to normal.