Behaving
I don't go out much. It's textbook depression...maybe even a major depressive episode...who knows??? The fact is I don't want to get dressed, I don't want to shower, I don't want to shampoo my hair, put on makeup...I don't want to wear clothing that I can't sleep in.
I am unable to behave correctly in polite society. I never know when I might have a panic attack...never know when, or why, or how my grief might be triggered and when it is, how far it's going to take me...will a few lovely tears slide silently down my face...or will I sob, face and shirt soaked with tears, mucous, falling to my knees and when they can no longer hold me, rolling up in a fetal position. Certainly not appropriate behavior and highly distressing to the mothers and daughters who are just out shopping...for normal clothes for their normal lives.
My baby's life was never normal...even before the depression took root, she was overweight so shopping was never fun. We had to look for the largest sizes available, always just a few things and settle for what we hated the least. No wonder all she ever wanted to wear were tee shirts and board shorts. She couldn't go to the beach and simply enjoy herself. She had to squeeze into some sort of suit designed to compress some areas and cover others. I always wondered what went through her mind when she saw other girls her own age in bikinis without a drop of self consciousness interrupting their fun. I never asked her how it made her feel. I didn't want to embarrass her, or bring it to her attention (as if she wasn't aware of it). Even after she lost a significant amount of weight, she had stretch marks, loose skin, and worse, scars. Hundreds or thousands of scars on her thighs and arms where she had cut herself. Even worse...hundreds of angry red cuts, trying to heal, but continually reopened.
My poor baby...so much pain...so now, now that it's over...I have to tolerance for small talk, for manners...I can smell a fake before I even see his or her face...I have no problem expressing my feelings. Get real with me or I will embarrass you or hurt your feelings. If you disingenuously ask “How are you?” (dumbass question) I might say, “How the hell do you think I am.” or “My only child shot a 38 caliber bullet through the frontal lobe of her brain. How are you?”I don't behave well...I don't think I ever will, I simply don't have the patience for it.
I am unable to behave correctly in polite society. I never know when I might have a panic attack...never know when, or why, or how my grief might be triggered and when it is, how far it's going to take me...will a few lovely tears slide silently down my face...or will I sob, face and shirt soaked with tears, mucous, falling to my knees and when they can no longer hold me, rolling up in a fetal position. Certainly not appropriate behavior and highly distressing to the mothers and daughters who are just out shopping...for normal clothes for their normal lives.
My baby's life was never normal...even before the depression took root, she was overweight so shopping was never fun. We had to look for the largest sizes available, always just a few things and settle for what we hated the least. No wonder all she ever wanted to wear were tee shirts and board shorts. She couldn't go to the beach and simply enjoy herself. She had to squeeze into some sort of suit designed to compress some areas and cover others. I always wondered what went through her mind when she saw other girls her own age in bikinis without a drop of self consciousness interrupting their fun. I never asked her how it made her feel. I didn't want to embarrass her, or bring it to her attention (as if she wasn't aware of it). Even after she lost a significant amount of weight, she had stretch marks, loose skin, and worse, scars. Hundreds or thousands of scars on her thighs and arms where she had cut herself. Even worse...hundreds of angry red cuts, trying to heal, but continually reopened.
My poor baby...so much pain...so now, now that it's over...I have to tolerance for small talk, for manners...I can smell a fake before I even see his or her face...I have no problem expressing my feelings. Get real with me or I will embarrass you or hurt your feelings. If you disingenuously ask “How are you?” (dumbass question) I might say, “How the hell do you think I am.” or “My only child shot a 38 caliber bullet through the frontal lobe of her brain. How are you?”I don't behave well...I don't think I ever will, I simply don't have the patience for it.
Replies
I hear you..I feel every emotion and nuance. When we think that we are so alone on this journey, we read journals and find the words we can\'t speak. I now cry when it hits me. Movie theater, car church, store. I don\'t care if people in the store are with their kids. I think that it is good for kids to see a grieving person and parents should set an example by talking about it openly. Perhaps that child will think twice before falling into despair instead, perhaps they will reach out instead.
I have to force myself to shower and get out of my house every day. My daughter came home yesterday and told her worker that her mom went OUT today. \"You don\'t know how huge this is\", she said. Just the day before, my son told me how hard it is to be at home with a behaviorally challenged sister, grumpy Dad and \"Mopey Mom\". I admit, that stung because I thought that I was doing ok..a real eye opener . I say just feel whatever and wherever you are.
Anger is a part of the process, so you are getting there. Lauri
It\'s called mourning. This changes into \"grief\" at some point, different for everyone. Depressed? Situational, yes of course. If you weren\'t depressed there\'d be something wrong with you. Angry? You bet. Defensive? Absolutely. Unable to keep it together in public? Yep.....been there. Rude to people who say the wrong thing? Yes, done that. Ready to rip out someone\'s heart if they dare ask the wrong thing....uh huh. Normal.
Does it ever stop? Yes. Sometimes it comes back, unexpectedly, but never as bad as it is now. You will put on makeup again if you choose...maybe years from now, maybe months. You will slowly be able to re-enter the world at your own pace, and it will be different forever. There\'s nothing wrong with you Gina. You are a mother surviving the worst nightmare any woman can experience.
This brought tears streaming down my face.... You see, Kala too was over weight and it caused her a LOT of pain. Yes, she was beautiful and popular and lived a GREAT life for the last 1-1/2 year she was here....but before that...well, it was pretty much hell for a while.
I remember her crying and asking why she couldn\'t look like all her barbie doll friends. Just broke my heart. She never did SEE her beauty. After her major depression subsided, she finally saw her inner qualities and wrote a journal about being proud of the person she was...a HUGE step. But still, she could never see herself as anything other than over weight.
I\'m SO sorry Cassi suffered with weight issues and all the emotional stress that goes along with it. SO hard on young girls. As a society, we\'ve certainly failed our girls!!
I was much like you in my beginning....not having much tolerance for small talk and surely had few if any \"good manners\" left. I\'d just as soon told someone to kiss my ass as to try to explain why what they were saying was so stupid. As time has gone on my anger has subsided and my tolerance levels have risen. I\'m pretty good now at putting one in their place while smiling and using \"polite\" words.....it\'s a southern gift I think, LOL! Like, \"well bless your heart\"....translated from Southern means, \"You stupid little shit\"...LOL!
I also practiced my answers out loud....after I decided I needed better answers to dumb ass questions....for my benefit, not their\'s. It helped having prepared answers. It meant I didn\'t have to think about it...sort of like putting my mouth on auto pilot, but safely. As long as I stuck to my script, I was OK.
It\'s much easier now to communicate with the ill informed and ignorant. I still get riled sometimes, but I can usually control myself and my actions/words....so there\'s been a LOT of progress!
Feeling it with you my friend. Hating it with you too! And, healing with you and honoring our girls, always...
Oh my dear. You are not just grieving the loss of Cassi but for the pain and struggles that she had during her short life. There really is no words to describe it.
I hear you when you say you don\'t have patience for small talk. And you are right; the \"How are you?\' question is really dumb at the best of times. I have shocked people by telling them the truth \"Well actually I am really upset. I have a headache and I\'m exhausted because....\" They stand there stunned, not sure what to say. However, I have been guilty of saying it myself. But I do wait for an answer.
Please don\'t be hard on yourself. We do the best we can do.
Love and gentle hugs,
Marlene
Dear Gina ~ your journal touched me so much. It takes me back to the very early days of my loss. Those days when it hurts so much that just going to sleep & not waking up seems like the only way to end the pain. Here I am 6 years later wondering how I\'ve made it this far. The pain is still with me but not like in the beginning. Rather than it being my main focal point now it\'s more in the background. Perhaps without realizing it I am learning how to live this new life. Do I prefer it......absolutely not, but I guess I\'m just trying to except it.
Like your daughter, my sons also struggled & dealt with emotional pain. As moms watching our children carry such unfair & heavy loads was excruciating.
They deserved so much better! Perhaps they\'ve found what this world could not offer them, peace. I truly believe we have the precious opportunity of seeing our children again with the life they longed for & deserved.
Seems we are searching for something to hope in, something that may comfort us in some way. What brings comfort to one mom may be different from what comforts another mom. For me studying Gods Word about the resurrection gives me hope. Along with learning about the hope of being raised to heaven, also I\'m learning about a hope of an earthly resurrection. I have to admit thinking about the possibility of my sons being resurrected to earth after it is cleansed & new really appeals to me. Just thinking about being able to hug them in their new healed physical body in the future, gets me through these lonely & painful times.
Dear friend....do not give up....you will find something that gives you hope about your precious daughter.
Hugs of understanding.....Vicki ( Jeremy & Chad\'s mom)
Gina - your journals always touch my heart. My daughter too had \"emotional problems\" - some genetic, some due to life and how she chose to deal. Jennifer was a hoarder, overweight also, and didn\'t \"fit in\" with the norm (whatever that is) - I tell you this, not to make it about me BUT to let you know I understand. I have little tolerance for \"ignorant\" people. To ask \"How are you\", then walk away and not even hear your answer is so hurtful and I have no tolerance. I have no tolerance of people that think I need to be over this \"death\" of my daughter because after all, she is free now, she is happy now, she is......in heaven..... THEY DON\'T GET IT....All those things that we knew our daughters struggled with so often weren\'t talked about with them, because we didn\'t want to upset them. Could we have helped if we did? I know, Gina, I have to constantly remind myself I did the best I could do, not perfect, but loving my daughter the only way I knew how..sometimes I was what she needed, other times I couldn\'t be - but I love her with every fiber in me as I know you did the same for Cassie. along her tough journey of life. The pain that is left because of choices our children made is gut wrenching...I hurt with you, I hold your hand and across this site, I\'m hugging you so tight....Experiencing what we are experiencing is making us \"real\", not fake...I believe that is who we are supposed to be. Real, loving, caring and giving hope to others that don\'t see that rainbow....Today know that you are doing what is normal and I\'m so proud of you for reaching out, sharing.....because you have said everything I feel, think and have done.
Much Love, Vicki
Hugs and love because I understand and have felt exactly as you DO. Sending you strength and a bit of sunshine hoping you feel Cassi\'s peace.
Sending you hugs and love Gina... it\'s a very difficult time and grief makes us all act in a different way. So many people believe they are being kind by asking the question \"how are you\" but they simply have no idea how painful that simple question is for a grieving parent. We no longer KNOW how we are or how we are going to just breathe from one moment to the next.
Teri ~ RememberKala really hits the nail on the head!
Love and Hugs, Vera
You are behaving just as you need to in this moment. I honestly cannot even remember how I behaved or not, yet I do remember one of my husband\'s co-workers asking me how my son had died when she handed a gift. I looked at her and said, \"You will have to ask my husband and when and if he is ready to share I\'m sure you\'ll be the first to know.\" That\'s how I was behaving and actually she apologized to my husband when he did return to work and said that she had learned something very valuable in that moment. Not to ask such a question and did it really matter \"HOW\" he died????!!!!!!!!!
Not meaning to go off, yet am because those are times that I know I was not behaving either and do I care, NO, I was trying to survive as are you.
Do whatever it takes and keep coming here where your sharing is so helpful because each of us has felt or is feeling this way and are learning what to ask, not to ask and everything in-between.
Oh, Gina... This IS all so excruciating and somehow in the messiness and chaos in time there will be moments of pause, of not feeling so utterly devastated. The timetable is as unique as you are, yet it\'s a promise and I know it does nothing for you now, perhaps in this moment, but I hope offers a heartstring to hold onto.
With you and caring so very much as you make your way,
XO Joanie