Sit Still
Walter called me today and reminded me, the hardest thing to do right now is nothing. To not want to make decisions about properties, to go through old things, to decide who gets the photo album with pictures of my mother drinking beer in college.
Grandma was wild! My boys all said, looking at the photos. Tall, thin and always with a smirk on her face. Crouching in front of her new car before graduation. Sporty in her saddle shoes.
Yes, she was. Your Grandma almost got kicked out of college because she was caught skinny-dipping the night before graduation. I believe a very large donation from your great-Grandfather allowed her to participate in the ceremony.
They laughed. New admiration for Grandma sparkled in their eyes as they looked over the photos.
It wasn’t a story told at the memorial service but it is one of my favorites.
You’re right, Walter. It is. It is almost impossible. I’m afraid of standing still.
I am afraid if I do, I will become deeply unhappy with my life as it is right now.
That I will find myself worthless.
My world small and petty.
I will stop caring.
In short, I’m terrified of my depression coming back. The stay at home mom depression I fought for years, sometimes successfully, sometimes not.
But it’s not the same as before. I am not the same. I know more. The memories are clear, crisp, with no fog.
Stopping, doing nothing means facing what I have to face. So I can move on, and no longer be held hostage by depression, fear and feeling worthless.
In short, I have to face the real demon in my life. I have to sit at the table with him. I have to tell him what he did was wrong. Deeply wrong. Bizarre. Painful.
Horrifying.
Tonight, I’m going to have dinner with my kids. Try to spend time with Jeanine and not fight. I have been short, angry and explosive lately.
It’s time.
Tomorrow I’m going to start posting about my father. It will not be for children to read. I’m not even sure I will be able to read it. I have to, though.
Over and over.
I have to stop. I can’t run anymore.
Grandma was wild! My boys all said, looking at the photos. Tall, thin and always with a smirk on her face. Crouching in front of her new car before graduation. Sporty in her saddle shoes.
Yes, she was. Your Grandma almost got kicked out of college because she was caught skinny-dipping the night before graduation. I believe a very large donation from your great-Grandfather allowed her to participate in the ceremony.
They laughed. New admiration for Grandma sparkled in their eyes as they looked over the photos.
It wasn’t a story told at the memorial service but it is one of my favorites.
You’re right, Walter. It is. It is almost impossible. I’m afraid of standing still.
I am afraid if I do, I will become deeply unhappy with my life as it is right now.
That I will find myself worthless.
My world small and petty.
I will stop caring.
In short, I’m terrified of my depression coming back. The stay at home mom depression I fought for years, sometimes successfully, sometimes not.
But it’s not the same as before. I am not the same. I know more. The memories are clear, crisp, with no fog.
Stopping, doing nothing means facing what I have to face. So I can move on, and no longer be held hostage by depression, fear and feeling worthless.
In short, I have to face the real demon in my life. I have to sit at the table with him. I have to tell him what he did was wrong. Deeply wrong. Bizarre. Painful.
Horrifying.
Tonight, I’m going to have dinner with my kids. Try to spend time with Jeanine and not fight. I have been short, angry and explosive lately.
It’s time.
Tomorrow I’m going to start posting about my father. It will not be for children to read. I’m not even sure I will be able to read it. I have to, though.
Over and over.
I have to stop. I can’t run anymore.
posted by Sara at 5:06 PM
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