Looking Up

Sometimes I wish I was young again.

Going up north to visit my mother in physical rehabilitation has taken its toll on her and me.  I’ve come to realize that my recovery and hers have marked similarities; one being that it is painfully slow.  I want so bad to be better, just to snap my fingers and have all the pain and the agony taken out of me, the sadness that is my depression.  But it lingers on.

Another similarity between us is that we have to keep positive attitudes if we’re going to survive.  The negativity and negative thoughts are so prevalent; it’s hard to ignore their power.  They surge in like waves of the ocean, sweeping in suddenly and powerfully, and it takes those small reminders to keep yourself above water.  One great big powerful antidote for me is my little baby:

He’s my little optimistic sunshine to each day.

Passing Away

Someone in my husband’s family just died today.  Suddenly and unexpectedly.  It’s such a shock when this happens.  I’m still not sure if I have fully accepted it.  I knew him – not well, but I knew him.  Another funeral.  It’s a part of life, I know, but it still doesn’t stop the shock wave that hits you when you realize that person is not on this earth anymore.  They are just a body now, their soul in the grave awaiting Judgement.

Ya Allah Yerhmo, Rafi.  We will miss you.

Group Therapy

Made it through my first group therapy session.  Found a glimmer of hope in the fact that there are others who are more similar to me than I thought.  Depression, anxiety, worrying.  There are others like me and its going to get better.  That’s what the one person told me.  Everyone tells you that, but when she looked in my eyes after hearing her speak and she told me, it made me think that because she has been there, been there and gotten through it, that I, too, can do the same.

Normal

Normal is walking to the store to buy something.

One foot in front of the other.  Normal is smiling at people approaching you on the sidewalk.  Normal is wearing jeans.  Normal is walking carefully to avoid running into poles.  Normal is handing your credit card to the attendant and saying “credit” when she asks “credit or debit.”  Normal is saying “thank you” when she bags your items.  Normal is walking out the door and pushing next to the sign that says “push.” 

Normal is making it back home in one piece. 

Postpartum and Me

It’s sunshiny outside but its dark in the house.  I keep it that way because that’s what I’m feeling inside.  Part of me says, “OPEN those curtains, honey!  Warm yourself with that sunshine!” and I tell that part of myself to shutup.  It’s the part of myself that I know is right but that I can’t listen to right now.

The baby is crying and I let him cry.  I will get there.  I will get to him and he will be fine.  I don’t know if I can be fine for him, but he will be fine.