Skip to main content

One Year Later

One year ago, I was in the thick of my disease. I was knee deep in the grimy pits of therapy, facing one of many medication changes, had yet to meet my full time psychiatrist, and sleeping. A lot.

I wasn't eating, wasn't showering, wasn't changing out of my pajamas. I ached in my arms and legs. I cried. I got headaches and stomachaches.

One year later and I'm sort of split on my recovery. On one hand, I'm doing great. Most of the above symptoms have gone away. I don't ache anymore, I don't sleep my days away, I'm holding down a job, I don't cry everyday, I shower, I eat, I get dressed.

A huge part of my recovery is thanks to my support network (shout out to Dave! Respect! And my mom! Woot!), thanks to modern medicine, and thanks to my stubbornness. After everything went down, even in the absolute worst, darkest hours, I had this little thread tethering me to this world. I don't know what it was tied to (Grace? Dave? God?), but for some reason, I clung to it, made the call to my therapist and to Dave, and took the very first, tiny step toward getting better.

So... on the other hand, I carry a bit of shame with me. I try to bury what happened to me last year. I keep telling myself that if only this happened, or if only I decided to do this instead of that, it wouldn't have happened... Even though there is sound medical science behind the existence of my condition... I still blame myself. If only I were stronger somehow, had more faith, were a better person... maybe this wouldn't have happened to our family. Because make no mistake, this didn't just happen to me. Everyone around me suffered. Gracie lost her mom for awhile. Dave lost his partner. My parents lost a daughter. My siblings lost a sister. My friends lost their friend.

I carry that with me everyday. It isn't a dark blanket over my life, but the guilt of it all is a slight haze over me. I can still experience life, even enjoy it, but only through that mist of shame.

Today is World Mental Health Day. I have been so busy with my head in the sand that my husband was the one who had to let me know. He's aware of these important dates more than I am, because he's accepted our reality and embraces it and meets it head on.

I could learn a thing or two from him.

Like our new normal will never go back to what it was and it's ok. That this isn't my fault. That we have a whole book of life together and one rotten chapter doesn't mean it's the end of the story.

Our story will continue. It will be happy and sad, angry and joyful, quiet and loud.

You know, just like life is meant to be.

**************************************************************
If you or someone you love is suffering from mental illness, please visit https://www.nami.org/ for information.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline – Call 800-273-TALK (8255)If you or someone you know is in crisis—whether they are considering suicide or not—please call the toll-free Lifeline at 800-273-TALK (8255) to speak with a trained crisis counselor 24/7.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Bullies

When you are in the moment, it is hard to imagine anything more heart wrenching than holding your child when she cries about being bullied.  What is more heart wrenching?  Knowing it is your fault. I've gone through life with my fair share of bullies.  Sometimes it was because I was flat out weird.  But most of the time it was my size.   Even when I wasn't even heavy, I considered myself fat and some of my peers agreed.  They agreed so vehemently that they decided to remind me of my size, especially during gym class.  Later in life, in my 30's, I was actually mooed at.  Seriously.  And it sucked being made fun of because of my looks. However.  One of the glorious parts of being 41 is that you just don't give a shart about what people think of you anymore.  Yes, I'm fat.  I have blue eyes, brown (going silver!) hair, and I am medically defined as being morbidly obese.  I try to remedy that diagnosis because...

Weird White Stuff

I spent the weekend away in the far away land called Chetek where Schmidts of all ages and sizes and alternate last names converge for the annual ritual of Winter Party.  Winter Party is in its' seventh year, I believe, and instead of flying 1000 miles to attend, G and I now can drive less than 300 miles and be at the front door of my parents' property out in the wilds of Barron County.  Indeed, at this time of the year, the yard does look barren with near zero (or subzero) temperatures and just a dusting of snow.  Even way up north, the snow was scarce.  Usually, we send the kiddies outside to barrel down the snow covered hill on sleds and tubes.  But there was a change of plans this year considering the yard was a frozen slip n' slide instead of a soft cushy bounty of snow.  Only the older kids were allowed to sled (much to the dismay of my own kid) out of fear of injury due to out of control speeds.  My dad put down some large amounts of hay to ke...

Gary is driving me NUTS

Or was. Gary is our main floor toilet and he was pissing me off so much.  For as long as we've lived here, Gary has been intermittently running on an off.  Sometimes every hour.  Sometimes every 5 minutes.  But he ran.  He ran like his life depended on it. Many attempts were made over the last year and a half, mostly fiddling with the float level.  Yet he kept running. But not today, Gary.  Not today!  There is only so much a woman can take, listening to the sudden swoosh of water filling the tank at seemingly random times. I did it.  Researched it, then I read the tank lid (Kohler has a lovely schematic and trouble shooting guidelines right there on the toilet).  I went to the local hardware store and called up Kohler right there in the aisle to make sure I was buying the right item.  I was, went home, chiseled out the old, worn, disgusting seal and replaced it with a bright yellow new one. And that sound you hea...