Today doesn't hurt any less than April 17, 2013 did. To date, this is my least favorite day of the year, April 17. It's the day that I dread for 364 days every single year. Now it's here and what? I spend the next 23.5 hours crying or trying not to cry while I wonder, usually resentfully, how my mother and siblings push through. I hate today, April 17th.
The sadness, hurt and anger I feel on this day doesn't leave from year to year. The pain I felt on April 17, 2013 has derailed my life. Grief has consumed me, it has made it impossible for me to make good decisions, and makes me unable to see when I make bad ones. I've lost time with my family because I cannot see past my grief. I still just find myself so sad most days, which is a huge improvement over EVERYDAY but still isn't where I need or want to be. I know I need to find a way to move past my grief. I need to work on being mentally healthy. My father would really not have been happy with this pity- party I've been throwing for 6 years now! While flattered at first, by 2 or 3 months he would have said move on. When years 3 and 4 came around, and my life was really hitting rock-bottom, he would have been angry. He would tell me now that I need to stop. I need to pull my life together and stop wasting time grieving over him. Especially since he did not think himself worthy of this kind of wallowing and grieving :)
Today I am going to do my best to move past the tears and see the life ahead of me. And when I wake up on April 18, 2019, I am going to work to live for more than another year passing since my father died. I am going to live for me! I am going to live for my husband & children. I am going to think of a happy moment everytime a sad one creeps in. This year I'm going to do it.
I love you dad and I will never stop but no more tears! Forward I go.
Wednesday, April 17, 2019
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
It's A Struggle For Sure
I've always tried to be as honest and open about my struggles because I know there are so many people out there suffering but not able to share so I share for you. I share in hope of helping just one person know they are not allow. I also share for me. For me it's a way to take all the words in my mind and give them another place to be! A place far outside my brain!
The question "who are you?" has become akin to nails on a chalkboard for me. In my mind the answer is depressingly easy, "I am a felon".
That's correct, I have spent 44 years on this earth, 11mos of it in jail, and the first answer that pops into my head, every time is, "I'm a felon". I went to my child's Eagle Scout ceremony and as I introduced myself to people, I nearly said "Hi I'm Emily, the felon" not mother of the child, not wife, not mother of 3, nope just felon.
So last night my husband, being particularly attentive and understanding, listened to me introduce myself as Emily, the felon. Then he looked at me and said name 8 things that have happened in the past 8 years that have greatly and you'd say negatively have happened. I looked at him unamused and ask why, he responded, humor me. So I did.
My List:
My father died
I destroyed my husband's trust in me
I ruined my family's finances
I tried to kill myself
I trusted and did for the wrong people
I caused my family to feel unsafe in their home
I lost a year of time with my husband and monsters
I hurt my family
Those are the top 8 things I've lived through the past 8 years. With that list my husband asked me where being a felon was. I said not in my top 8, it's just who I am. He said, "on that list where is going to jail, being poisoned & tortured?" I answer, Not in my top 8. Then he looked at me, as I sobbed, and asked "then why do you see yourself first and only as a felon?" So I cried, ugly, sobbing cries as he went over my list of 8 again and said, "Emily is a daughter, a mother, a wife, a protector, a lover, a loyal friend". Of course I decided he didn't have to sleep on the couch last night as I continued to sob ;-)
The point that I need to share and need to get out is that for weeks, months I've been slipping further and further into a depression and the further I fall the brighter my scarlet "F" gets until it's donned some lights and started flashing! Can I make my "F" go away? No. But what I can do and am working to do is take the lights down or at least dim them.
It's a bump in my road. If it wasn't the felony it would have been something else, that's the bigger point. When you live with Bipolar disorder and depression, there is always going to be a letter on your chest and the majority of the time it's put there by you! That IS the disorder! How can your brain play tricks on you. And it's so easy to slip into depression. It's so easy to believe all the negative.
The other thing I'd like to share is that sharing isn't just hard because of the people that don't understand or "believe" mental illness, it's hard because mental illness is so individualized and the topic is so sensitive that sometimes when I share people, trying to be supportive don't really understand me and my illness. The best way to help someone with a mental illness is to make sure that they know how to find help when/if they want it. For me that looks like a very, very small support system of family, a friend, okay two and doctors. They are people I see, talk to and trust everyday. Don't read too much into my social media posts if they haven't. Sometimes I just have words I need to get out!
I'm going to end by saying, I'm struggling right now. I am working through it. I have awesome support.
The question "who are you?" has become akin to nails on a chalkboard for me. In my mind the answer is depressingly easy, "I am a felon".
That's correct, I have spent 44 years on this earth, 11mos of it in jail, and the first answer that pops into my head, every time is, "I'm a felon". I went to my child's Eagle Scout ceremony and as I introduced myself to people, I nearly said "Hi I'm Emily, the felon" not mother of the child, not wife, not mother of 3, nope just felon.
So last night my husband, being particularly attentive and understanding, listened to me introduce myself as Emily, the felon. Then he looked at me and said name 8 things that have happened in the past 8 years that have greatly and you'd say negatively have happened. I looked at him unamused and ask why, he responded, humor me. So I did.
My List:
My father died
I destroyed my husband's trust in me
I ruined my family's finances
I tried to kill myself
I trusted and did for the wrong people
I caused my family to feel unsafe in their home
I lost a year of time with my husband and monsters
I hurt my family
Those are the top 8 things I've lived through the past 8 years. With that list my husband asked me where being a felon was. I said not in my top 8, it's just who I am. He said, "on that list where is going to jail, being poisoned & tortured?" I answer, Not in my top 8. Then he looked at me, as I sobbed, and asked "then why do you see yourself first and only as a felon?" So I cried, ugly, sobbing cries as he went over my list of 8 again and said, "Emily is a daughter, a mother, a wife, a protector, a lover, a loyal friend". Of course I decided he didn't have to sleep on the couch last night as I continued to sob ;-)
The point that I need to share and need to get out is that for weeks, months I've been slipping further and further into a depression and the further I fall the brighter my scarlet "F" gets until it's donned some lights and started flashing! Can I make my "F" go away? No. But what I can do and am working to do is take the lights down or at least dim them.
It's a bump in my road. If it wasn't the felony it would have been something else, that's the bigger point. When you live with Bipolar disorder and depression, there is always going to be a letter on your chest and the majority of the time it's put there by you! That IS the disorder! How can your brain play tricks on you. And it's so easy to slip into depression. It's so easy to believe all the negative.
The other thing I'd like to share is that sharing isn't just hard because of the people that don't understand or "believe" mental illness, it's hard because mental illness is so individualized and the topic is so sensitive that sometimes when I share people, trying to be supportive don't really understand me and my illness. The best way to help someone with a mental illness is to make sure that they know how to find help when/if they want it. For me that looks like a very, very small support system of family, a friend, okay two and doctors. They are people I see, talk to and trust everyday. Don't read too much into my social media posts if they haven't. Sometimes I just have words I need to get out!
I'm going to end by saying, I'm struggling right now. I am working through it. I have awesome support.
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