One of the things depression makes me do is to stop caring about anything. I care about people in my life, but not enough to make sure I stay connected. I just kind of hope that they stay around and mostly leave me alone. Then, when I’m alone, I get all pathetic and feel sorry for myself for being alone. It’s a vicious, stupid circle. Only the ones who keep chasing after me, and cornering me get any effort from me at all.
Some have given up (or maybe they’re just waiting for me to come around). And I’m okay with that. (If anyone reaches out, I won’t recoil.) I still care about those relationships. I just feel relieved I don’t have to expend effort in that direction for awhile, because I don’t have the energy. I have a very limited amount, and what I do have, I am spending on Levi and the kids. Though I’m doing better, I’m still struggling. Slogging through waist-deep mud, uphill. Both ways.
I’m failing a little better everyday. At least, the optimist in me hopes I am.
That’s all I can really work for at this point. One day at a time, one moment at a time, I have to be different than I was.
I have accepted that life will never be the same after Dad’s passing. Ever. There is no getting back to normal. Ever. There is no getting over it, the way one would get over the loss of a wallet or a watch. Ever. Ever. Ever.
There is only accepting life as it is now, instead of trying to go back. There is only finding a new normal, that makes at least a little sense. There is only living with the pain, as it comes around in cycles, for the rest of my life.
And that’s just how it is.
Grace & Peace,