I have looked at my last post too many times over the last 5 weeks. I've spent hours thinking about writing something new. I've had so many thoughts running through my head some days and other days ... nothing. For the past week, I've been steadily sliding downward into a pit of ... depression? Grief? Despair? I keep thinking that it's been almost 6 months since Tom died; I should be feeling better, not worse. And I'm afraid of this place I'm finding myself going continually deeper into. My mother suffered from depression for years. I've been in serious depression a few times, and mild depression more times than I can recount. I know I have to go through all of the dark valleys of grief, but the lines between grief and depression are blurry right now. I've been taking medicine to combat depression since learning that Tom had a brain tumor last October. So, why, now, when things should be getting better, do I find myself feeling the most pain, loneliness, and helplessness that I've yet encountered? What if I can't get out of this pit again ... ever?
I cried last night. It's the first time I've cried in a long time. I cried myself to sleep. I've been wiping tears away and swallowing lumps in my throat all morning. For the first time, I really don't care if I get dressed today or not. I don't care if my bed doesn't get made. I forced myself to eat the only food that appeals to me at all - cereal - this morning only because my stomach hurts almost as much as my head does.
My youngest son is rejecting me, telling me to go away from him. His first words to me this morning were "I'm ignoring you." When I ask him "why?, did I do something to deserve this treatment?" he just walks away without a word. My heart feels like raw meat that someone keeps stabbing or pounding on.
The minutes of my life tick by slowly as the memories rush past me and through me and overflow me with loneliness and leave me feeling empty and hopeless. And I'm back to being that little girl who had to be the "big girl" and desperately wanting to be taken care of again. Tom took care of me. He comforted me. Encouraged me. Believed in me. He taught me to believe in myself. How I miss him!
I know there are people who understand. Women who have walked this road before me, or are walking it right now themselves. Like my new online friend, Cindy Cain. This morning, I was reading her blog posts from the first months after her husband passed away. She was online on Facebook, and I put up the chat window several times (as well as the comment boxes on her posts), but I just stared at the windows, not knowing what I could say to her. I know there are people who want to help. What can anyone do? No one can give me my husband back. I don't want to feel this intense loneliness, but I feel like I can't talk to anyone right now.
I know that God is my husband now. I know His promises are there for me. Right now, I have to just stand on that truth alone in the darkness, because I can't move from this spot and I can't see anything but the darkness.
So why am I writing this at all? There's no encouragement coming from me; I know. Maybe it's just because I can't answer that question any other way right now. (You know - "how are you doing?") The truth is: not very well. Please pray for me.