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Thoughts After a Suicide

20160702_144926It’s almost like receiving the news that Robert committed suicide changed me in some way… on a chemical level. Things that were bugging me before suddenly don’t matter. And things that have fallen aside are now in focus. I realized that even though I have been depressed, nothing is worth that.  A new perspective has been gained.

I’ve gone through some of the stages of grief. You’d be safe to say I’ve been pissed. So angry at him for wiping that slate clean. Sure, no more pain, but also no more joy, no laughter, no chance of ever feeling peaceful or blissful again. Not only that, but he is leaving a community behind. Loved ones. Friends. Coworkers. All to wonder why. I have anger.

I’m not thankful in any way that he is gone. I never will be. However, I am thankful for my lessons, and I’m sure they are just beginning. Regret sucks and I do wonder if I should have been in touch better. He will never know all the lessons learned from him. He will simply never know.

In a perfect world, people would not kill themselves. Well, in a perfect world, no one would be depressed, desperate, or sad enough to consider it.

But it’s not a perfect world and I’m looking at you. Do you know someone who is depressed? Are you that person? Have you heard them talk about suicide or thought about it yourself?  Take out a piece of paper and write the name of 1-5 people on it that you can reach out to. Lifelines, use them. Let them know what you are going through. Talk it out, seek help, and promise yourself that you will always allow yourself the chance of feeling joy tomorrow.

When you are drowning is not the time. Now is the time. And if you are drowning now? Reach out. I’m here, of course. And there are others in your life that expect a tomorrow from you. Talk to them.

 

Suicide is Never Painless

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I have nothing poetic to say. My heart has been broken open again. I received word Friday evening that my ex husband had committed suicide. Not my boys’ dad, but my 2nd husband.

I have been hovering around the depression spectrum for weeks now, as you know. My world has been grey, I have been surrounded by good friends, in a great job, and sad to the core.

I haven’t spoken to my ex husband in a year, and before that it was longer. We were not what each other needed, but we didn’t have animosity. I always wished him well.

My heart breaks knowing he saw no other choice. My heart breaks for those who loved him. My heart breaks for the tomorrows he will never see. My heart breaks, my heart breaks, my heart breaks.

One thing I know from where I stand… suicide is never painless.

Another Day

 

20150728_061255There was an incident a month or so ago… when all hell broke loose between two of my sons. The things that happened that day changed me. I won’t share details out of love and respect for their privacy. Since then, though, I’ve not had more than a couple “good” days in a row. By good, I mean days that I don’t cry. Days that I don’t sit around depressed. Days that I feel like I am happy.

Today was a not so good day, and oddly enough I wasn’t sitting around depressed.  I was bubbling inside with a rage, all day at work. It didn’t seem to have a source, I mean, nothing happened to make me angry. Suppressing it has exhausted me. And now, as I sit at home, I realize it’s just a stage of grief. I mourn all that has happened. And especially how it has affected my relationships with my sons. I am sad to the core, and I know all too well that you can’t rush grief.

Hoping tomorrow is a good day. And that soon I can have three in a row. Or more.

The State of the Robyn

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Last I blogged, I had been dealing with grief.  I’m still sad when I think of Elliot being gone.  In addition to that, my sons have been finding their way out into the world. Stretching their wings. Asserting themselves. Cutting ties. I know that at some point their independence won’t guarantee my exclusion, but for now, it is what it is.

My brain knows that this is an important stage of their development. But my heart hurts. I’ve honestly not cried this much in my entire life. I am, after all, the girl who didn’t cry for days when her mom died. I struggle with how much to share. But you know what? I’m moving towards transparency. My shoulders are tight, I pull my upper ribs out in my back. What do I gain from holding it all in?

My goal is to blog at least every other day, and we will see how that goes. I feel like I’m getting… old… and insignificant. I had dinner with my ex in laws the other day. I can relate to so much they are going through. They have great grandchildren and others on the way… yet they are forgotten. I feel that. Yet at the same time, I know deep down that just as much as this is my children’s time to stretch their wings… it is mine as well.

It’s time to paint my heart out, to write my dreams, to spread my wings and fly.

 

Finding My Way

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Lately I’ve been floundering.  There’s been a lot of shit going on.  I know,  I’ve never used that sort of language on here…  or on social media.  But guess what?  I do in real life and I’m too tired to censor.

Anyway,  issues with my adult children,  depression,  overwhelm,  my cousin died.

Holy shit.  My cousin died.  The Earth turned on its axis and I cannot believe that Elliott is no longer here.  I don’t even know what to do with that knowledge. The grief rolls through.  For Elliot’s sister,  my whole heart is with her.  For their parents.

Suddenly I found myself grieving not only Elliot but also family shit from two years ago. And my dad.  And my siblings who are still here but have lost their way.

And I became a bundle of grief. Usually quite reserved, suddenly I couldn’t stop crying.

I’ve been journaling and working through.  The house is temporarily empty and that’s helpful.  I can be me. Whoever that may be.

On the Mend

A few Photos from My DadSo I had been feeling grey. You know, that’s sugarcoating things. I had been depressed, and had fallen to an all time low. The depression stuck with me, no matter what I did, far longer than it ever had before.  Depression is a relentless bitch. Shortly after my last post I started coming out of it, only to plunge in again. Unfortunately, my love and my best friend got the brunt of it. And fortunately for me, they rode it out.

I’ve been doing some fitness challenges, and staying busy at work, and honestly most of the time I feel like I’m just sleepwalking through my days, but it’s better than feeling like I just wanted to burn everything down in my life. My next challenge will be to figure that out… how to stop sleepwalking. But for now, I’m glad that I’m not depressed.

Grey Days

ChangesToday is a difficult day. I haven’t been sleeping well, and last night I had nightmares about personal insecurities and I had a meltdown… on my love. Not a good day at all. I have been on antidepressants before and they just leave me blah. So that’s not a route I care to go down. Pondering therapy today. To what end? I’m just so scrambled. And feeling more lost than before. I need to regroup and I need to figure out how before I show my ass to anyone else.

And I Begin…

Sometimes the rain comesPart of my struggle recently has been with just putting it out there. I can think of a hundred reasons to not bare my soul on here, but at the end of the day this is my space. This is me, and should be a reflection of such. I’ve tried the anonymous blog route, and I just don’t dig it. Not that I’m an attention whore, but because I’m working on being more authentic. So… diving in. Sharing some stuff about myself that I’ve not shared before.

I suffer from depression. Lately it’s been bad enough to pull away from friends and almost totally withdraw. I’ve grown silent. I’ve pulled inward, and all I found at that time was darkness. I’m working on that now.

I’m also working on being able to state my feelings openly. I bottle things up. I put my own feelings last. It’s time for that to end, and that will likely help to ease the depression.

I am an empath. To the bone. I feel so much empathy for others, and I suffer when people I know are suffering (sometimes yes, even when people I don’t know are). That is extremely hard for others to understand, so again, I withdraw. I can’t keep doing that.

How do I fix these things? I guess my first step will be admitting… and examining myself. I need to know all my why’s before I can move forward I think.

I am a Writer, who hasn’t been Writing…

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I’ve spent much of 2016 in a struggle. I began the year in a job from hell. I could tell you horrible things about that job, but what is important are the lessons I received. I learned that I could withstand hell. I withdrew, I went into survival mode, but survive I did. Better yet, I persevered. I held my head high despite my circumstances, and I toughed it out. I searched every single day for a job, and most days I applied for several. I had many interviews, and I was rejected more times than I could count.

What do I have to show for it?

An amazing job that has been a struggle, honestly. But a job in which I am appreciated, and one in which I have to learn new things and push myself every single day. A job that I’m thankful for with every breath.

A smile that has returned to my life.

Shoulders that aren’t knotted constantly.

Friendships from the old job, and from the new.

I had to breathe and make space for this new job, because I had withdrawn, purposefully made myself small to eke through the days. Suddenly I was in a position to bloom, to breathe, to expand again.

I’ve taken my time. I’ve learned enough in my life to know to go slowly when I can afford the luxury. The time has come to write again. To follow my dreams. To spread my wings and learn how to fly again.

Happy 2016

FYI

Quite frankly, I was more than glad to see the end of 2015. It was a rough year. My job of 3 years ended (well, converted to freelance actually) in August, and I took another job. That job? Let’s just say I struggle in it. Its not a good fit. And so I’ve been working every single day for months to get into a new job. Many days I get rejections in my email. Some days I get interviews. I have not given up.

I have, however, been fighting depression. I’ve been struggling to keep my head above water. Many days I’ve been living in black and white, and well, maybe some grey. 2016 is the first in decades in which I didn’t make resolutions or list goals. It’s also the first in at least a half dozen years in which I didn’t pick a word of intent.

I have faith in 2016. I have faith in me, and my relationships, and my drive.

In 2015 I rediscovered my love of painting. I plan to learn more techniques and fine tune my skills. I also plan to write more (remember that sequel?), and submit my work to several places. I also have a dream of having Breaking Free made into a movie (if any of you have tips or connections, please send them my way!).