The medication didn’t work. I developed a rash over most of my body. I became more depressed. I couldn’t get out of bed. I didn’t want to kill myself. But I didn’t want to wake up the next morning. I felt like a guinea pig. Let’s up the meds. Let’s up the meds again. Hey… Continue reading Medication
Grief has an existence all its own. Yes, the ideation sounds ludicrous. Before my sister died, I would have laughed at this thought. Yet today, here I sit writing about it in complete seriousness. In the beginning, grief fells all-consuming. It feels like it is you. You can not function. You are in shock. You… Continue reading Its own entity
There are many facets to grieving. There are a myriad of feelings our mind has to processes. Emotions our heart has to take in, live, and release. There are the real life changes after a death. No phone calls. No visits. Nothing. We have to learn how to live this different life. When you are… Continue reading Expected to be the same
Every morning waking up is harder than the one before. Right now, each morning is a struggle. I have to talk myself out of bed. Once I get myself up, I can dust off the cobwebs that have encased my brain. The lows are dredging a little deeper each morning. Wiping away the cobwebs takes… Continue reading Dark Clouds
A common thought for me through out my sister’s illness had been: I’m not ready. I always wanted to freeze time. I wanted to make it last longer. I wanted those long paused take forever minutes. I wanted those minutes before the school bell rang at the end of the day. I wanted those minutes… Continue reading I’m not ready.
As I sit here today, my brain wants to write something amazing. My brain wants speak some words of wisdom to share with another person engulfed in grief. My brain knows we have to stay busy to keep moving. My heart, however, is somewhere different. The soft snuggness of the mattress seduced me to stay… Continue reading A ton of bricks