This will probably be the hardest thing I have ever written in my entire life, second to sharing the news of Cassie's death. It's hard because my friends have so much faith in me, and have told me over and over again that they know I'm strong enough to get through this, that I'm handling it so well, that they're proud of me.
I want to preface this by emphatically stating that I am not suicidal and have no intention of harming myself.
But I have fallen into the deepest, darkest pit of depression that I have ever experienced. I am on medication. I am getting what help I can given my lack of insurance. I will not harm myself. But I have a lot of trouble caring enough to get out of bed every day, to eat, to interact with people. I have anxiety attacks when the phone rings. I have a lot of trouble even forcing myself to drive a couple of miles to the store when we're out of milk and toilet paper. I am not really a functional human being at this point. I think of Cassie literally every waking moment. I have replayed the moments of her death in my mind thousands of times. I cannot force the images from my mind. The only respite I get is sleep. So I sleep. 12, 14, 16 hours a day sometimes. I am not parenting my son as I know he needs. After paying off Cassie's cremation, medical bills, all of our overdue utilities, expenses for the memorial service, and then moving, while feeding a growing teenage boy, I am completely broke. I should be looking for a job, but I can barely make myself shower. I have been informed, as gently as possible, that the horrible condition of my broken and discolored teeth is going to be an impediment to my finding professional employment. I haven't had a job in 18 years. I can't leave Walt alone for more than a couple of hours at a time because he can't remember not to microwave silverware and not to leave the house when I'm not here.
I had big plans that I would be able to travel to Canada this summer so that Marcia and I could get married. That's not going to happen, for financial reasons.
This time last year I had four loud, silly, wonderful teenagers under my roof. My foster child went to live with his grandparents, my nephew went home to his mom, and Cassie is gone. Walt still needs me but not in the way that Cassie did. While that's probably a good thing, it leaves me feeling useless. The only thing I've ever been any good at, taking care of children, my children, I'm no longer needed for. I feel completely adrift, like my entire reason for existing is gone. And I don't have the energy to fight to make things better. I just want to sleep, because that's the only time that everything doesn't hurt.
6 comments:
Oh Logan, My heart aches for you. I have no words of wisdom but I want you to know that I care very much for you and that Cassie is in all of our hearts. Your loss hit myself and my kids hard. I had always hoped that Cassie and Asia could have met someday. Many times we talked about Cassie and how brave she was. I know you don't see it right now, but you are very brave too. Your earth has shattered and you need time to adjust. I believe that you would never hurt yourself because you know Cassie would't want you to do that. You are blessed with the memories and I know that is not enough, but that is a gift that Cassie left you. You were her treasured person and that in itself is very special. I love you my friend. Please try to keep your chin up. Sam (Shanka)
Logan, everything you posted is completely and totally normal for your stage of grief. Completely expected and shared by anyone who has lost someone they loved, particularly a child.
Remember, too, that while you don't want to get up, you DO get up...and therein lies the hope. You will keep getting up, even with the heaviness that only comes with grief like yours.
It will change. I will take lots of time, but it will change. One day, there will be more awake time and less sleeping. One day there will be some laughter and not only tears. One day the future will come into focus and the past will flow together like smooth, healing water.
Until then, rest. Take time. Feel. Breathe. A wise friend of mine once told me that it get through grief you need to do five things a day:
1. Shower and dress.
2. Take a vitamin
3. Eat something (anything).
4. Make a plan for a few days hence (I will take a walk on Tuesday. I will make a phone call on Monday. etc.)
5. Make human contact - say hello to the mail carrier, call someone, get gas and ask the clerk about his/her day - anything to have contact with people.
Those 5 things have gotten me through some really, really rough times.
It sucks right now. Completely. And it isn't fair. And it hurts. And when people say something stupid like "Wow! You are doing great!" it is because they don't know WHAT to day, but want to say something. Folks want to help, so they do dumb stuff. They don't mean to, but they can't think of anything ELSE to do because there really isn't anything to do but wait and breathe and grieve.
Keep writing. Keep reaching out. Keep breathing. And next year, you will tell us that you remember how awful THIS time was but how much your life has opened and healed. I promise. I do.
Much love, my friend.
Your tender heart is held in the hugs of many. If only for a moment's comfort, know you are cherished and loved in whatever condition you are in.
Your tender heart is held in the hugs of many. If only for a moment's comfort, know you are loved and cherished in whatever state of mind you are in.
Call 1-800-suicide. Tell them you are not having suicidal thoughts when they ask (unless you are, in which case you should say so. Only imminent and immediate danger will result in them going into save-a-life mode so don't be fearful of being honest). When they say "what can I do for you this evening", start talking. Whatever pops out is probably the most important issue occupying your brain. Maybe there is something that can be done to help. Maybe not. Either way, talking it out with a stranger won't hurt anything. Ask about sliding scale counseling. Tell them you need free help, for everything. Do not, for one moment, consider feeling guilty or shameful of needing help. Write down names and numbers and maybe you need to put that paper away. Maybe you put it away for a day or two. Maybe you don't get up the energy to look at it for a month, or even a year, but that paper is in your brain, and your soul feeds on that spark of hope. Ask that they call and check on you in a few days. Answer the phone when they do. And most importantly, know that you don't have to be strong. However you feel right now is perfectly ok. And thank you for putting this out for us to see. We can support you better if we know where you are.
Aw, Logan. I can't imagine what you're going through. It's devastating. But I'm sure Cassie would be upset seeing you this way. Your world has been shattered, as has Walt's. You've gotta get up, get moving. Do what needs to be done. Get involved with Walt, he needs support as much as you do. I also ditto Gwen's comments about calling that # for help. At the very least they may have some leads or resources for you. MUCH love. Get up, keep moving. Take a walk, play with Walt, take a shower, get dressed EVERY day. It's hard, oh so hard. ((hugs)) You CAN do this!
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