4.4 – Through My Family, I’ve survived.

September 22, 2016

Dear Darkened Rose,

I am visiting this stage again because I cannot pay attention to anything else. In the past three months, there have been scenarios left and right that heavily pulsated with sadness.

I listen to my thoughts and to everyone’s comments as they were parrotted at me. All of which sound similar to “just get up and participate in a triathlon towards happiness.” The triple threat of suggestions—Quick house chores. Yoga. Walking. It all sounds simple in theory. This is not the case when you feel your mind is outweighing your body and leaving you seemingly catatonic. I do not resonate with just “being lazy” lately. I have been lazy; I understand lazy. But I get crippled when depression hits.

My highest hopes were for people to see my stimulation through good intentions despite the abandoned promises. What you cannot see is that it took more energy for me to vow with high hopes than when I barefaced turned down the last opportunity with, “I’m too depressed to go out right now. Sorry. Thanks for the invite.”

 So the situations that ached the most recently–

Daddy was rushed to the hospital for a heatstroke and scared the shit out of us. The week before and the week or two following I found myself super sensitive to the simplest things and walking around with a red nose and wet makeup daily.

Around the same time, I was trying to complimentarily handle the feedback of the last letter I wrote to you about Tiger. The private messages and side-talks that were prompted by publicly divulging that scenario left me with this inexplicable feeling. The word “strong” was bounced around a lot. I want to be strong, but I do not believe I am strong—that is my most weighted opinion (although it  is arguably not always the most valuable). It was touching to hear from people but I feel as though I portrayed this sort of caricature of myself that was conveyed as confident and that is a bit far-fetched from the whole truth. I admire people for their positivity; I want to be positive.

Within those few weeks, after Daddy was rushed to the hospital, I experienced another complication. It was the most confusing tragedy. I wrote to you about Bishop last year when I was on the Wimberley deployment. He was a man I had grown to love and he died (from what I have largely concluded to have been from suicide). I had not spoken with him in several months but looked forward to the day I might again. He is dead and now months later I cannot figure out how I feel about it. I was torn between still feeling incredibly close to the memories but knowing I did not know as much about him as I thought I did nor as much as I had hoped. I wish I had more touching things to say, but it truly just does not feel well to explore still. And anything cliché resembles a thwarted effort for me.

I am pretty sure I made it clear in January that I was struggling a bit with the same thoughts. But I always left the stressful purposelessness with only the thoughts and never a true plan. After hearing about Bishop, the tangibility of suicide budded to a surface level that I am still struggling to recover from. The past 2-3 weeks have been a huge progression towards climbing out of an 8-month rut. I’m convinced at this point the medication I was taking was no longer being utilized correctly by my body in the same ways that it had when I first started taking it 2 years ago. Fortunately, I believe I have now found a similar medication that is helping speed up this depression recovery in a steady manner.

And the good times–

Then, there was a week’s worth of vacation thrown in—Bar Harbor, Maine. Brad and Sarah were married there (finally), and it was beautiful. The city, the ceremony, the breath of fresh ocean-salted air, and the break from my persistent negative take on my reality at home.

Caleb and I climbed a mountain–in all actuality, it was a tiny one, but a conquered tiny mountain nonetheless!

My pride was strong in Brad, Sarah, Ian, Daddy, Janie, and Brandon. Although, I never felt I could thoroughly express it due to this overwhelming strike of grief I was experiencing. I had my tears for you there. I still have no idea how I am going to visit those events in my life without you present. I guess I will visit that thought stronger if the day ever comes. Maybe I can embrace it with grace because great happiness can prevail, I’m sure.

I love you. I miss you.



The Song:

Weathered by Jack Garratt