It's time to be brutally honest and up front with all of you. Proceed with caution.
Before I write this confession, I must also confess that there's no way that I believe I am alone in this. And that is why I decided to write about it.
I have wanted to die.
No shock there, right? We've all felt that desire. But for me, there have been more than just a few times when that desire was all-consuming. One of those times was when the boys and I were on our cruise this past summer.
We had, for the first time, a balcony room, which was nice, but which was also something very, very difficult for me to face every day.
Every day.
It's a dang good thing they had that sign hanging up there ...... since I, as a first-born and mostly a rule-follower, followed that rule.
As you can obviously tell, I have not died. And that all-consuming thought of it has passed (thank God for good meds and good doctors). I still do not mind the idea of dying and I wonder if I ever will again. I have no fear of death, nor of anything really. I have faced the worst and have survived.
So far.
I think I've been mostly shocked that I didn't die of a broken heart. Maybe my children are surprised by that, too.
But again, I'm still here.
In spite of those days when all I wanted was for the world to stop. For peace and quiet and blackness to overtake me. I wasn't looking beyond that .... not to seeing Jim, not to heaven, not to anything except for the pain to stop. I was tired. Heck, I was beyond exhaustion and could not see anything different in the future. I couldn't see a future. I couldn't see beyond the pain of each moment.
Even on a cruise ship.
And I couldn't really talk about it with anyone .... not on the ship anyway. I was supposed to be in the "happiest place on earth" .... not trying to determine how difficult it would be to climb over a railing.
But ..... this, as do many of the thoughts, the pains, the blacknesses ...... passed.
And I confess that I'm glad it has passed. It's certainly not what Jim would have wanted. I wouldn't have wanted that for him had he been the one left behind.
And if it hadn't passed, I would have missed the experience of things going from deep, inky blackness to a lighter shade of grey.
I like grey.
I would've have missed my son's football games, my daughter's college graduation, 6 special birthdays, time with my children.
But most importantly, I would have missed the love, compassion and caring that friends, family and complete strangers have poured out on me.
I would have missed the warmth that those people brought to my heart.
I would have missed the healing that is going on inside of my heart.
And I would have missed the opportunities to say, "Hang in there. I get it. It's hard. But it will pass."
So here's to warmth, and hope and faith and love.
And here's to a future, whatever it may hold.
And to all things passing .... one way or another.
Amen, amen, amen.....well said. As a fellow survivor, going on 4 years now, your essay really came in a timely fashion for me today. Lately I have been feeling the darkness creeping in again. Your writing has reminded me about the good that is in this "after" life. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThank you.........those are profound words that truely make me know that there is someone out there like me....
ReplyDeleteGrey is good...and the shades seem to get lighter as time passes (tidal waves of black for sure, but on the whole, lighter and lighter grey). Love to you Janine, glad you followed the rules on the boat. We're happy to have you here, brightening our shades of grey.
ReplyDeleteMichelle
your posts always strike a chord with me; this on in particular. I have felt this way myself; as recently as this week (good meds and a good therapist pulled me through as well!). I admire your ability to post so honestly. You will never know how much you have helped me in my on journey on this unwelcome path.
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