Tag: #alone

Here Above I Stand

Time spent above ground is precious.

From the bonds and relationships you’re able to form. To the places you’re able to go. Even the things you’re able to see and experience, they can be priceless.

I don’t want to spend another day upset over frivolous things when I am blessed with the breath to do and be great.

Take actionable steps to have a meaningful and enjoyable life. Don’t just talk and dream about it. Anything you put your mind to is possible.

15 years ago today, my Father left me for good. Not like I use to tell people when he disappear for months, years. And today I’m finally at peace with not having him around in life and mourning what I felt like should have been a good relationship between us.

I never got that love from my Father that most girls get and I’m certain it has affected me in ways some may not imagine. I’ll never have the pleasure of being walked down the isle by my Father. He’ll never meet his grandchildren. Father’s Day presents will never don his name. We only sat down and ate one meal together in my life and we’ll never do it again.

I’m just an emotional, premature menopausal young woman lacking my points of origin (parents), trying not to give up on this wonderful thing called life.

Help

In an effort to take care of myself I got back into therapy after being noncompliant for over 2 years. In addition to me being noncompliant the availability of providers has been slim to none.

Nonetheless, I logged off from work, messaged my team that I was leaving my desk and that I’d be right back. I never thought I’d be sending someone a message to let them know I was on my way to the hospital.

I drove across town to my appointment only to be told my appointment was canceled. I didn’t care about the reason, I needed to be seen. To be heard. I can tell they were very familiar with crisis situations because when I lost it on the receptionist, the nurse instantly told me to take a deep breath but it was too late. This was the breaking point that Robin was talking about. I had met it. After closing my eyes and slightly yelling through my teeth, I took a deep breath and apologized to the ladies.

This next part is the part that scared me. I walked to my car. Before I got in, I threw my purse clean across the car. I got in, put my keys in the ignition and just sat there. Instantly all the feelings of the last 3.5 years hit me. I screamed, I had a full blown adult tantrum. I took some deep breaths and couldn’t get it together. For the third time in my life I decided to lean on the people who “got” me. One of my best friends was first because she’s in close proximity. She couldn’t answer. I moved down my list. Called my Brother. Texted. Facetimed. No one answered. I threw all my devices. Here I am, experiencing what I’d later find out was a mental breakdown and I had no one that could take a moment and answer to just show me they cared or that I mattered.

My next thought was to call my other half but lately when I try to express how I’m feeling, it ends in an argument and that in itself is triggering and I didn’t want to be blamed again for having feelings and stepping outside my box and sharing said feelings. In the midst of the chaos I grabbed my phone to call my Mom. And when it hit me that she was no longer here, I really lost it.

Anytime I ever called her, day or night, she answered and she listened. Without judgement. Without being a Mom and wanting to offer advice. I always told her she was so easy to talk to. But here I am breaking the fuck down and she’s not here. And to top it off heaven doesn’t have a phone. (Who built this place with no telecommunication? Doesn’t God know I NEED my Mother?) I instantly cycled through grief a million times at warp speed. Squeezing my eyes so tight because I kept seeing flashes of images and inaudible motion pictures of times I spent with my Mom, both my Grandfather’s, my Great Grandmas, My Great Grandfather, my Grandmother and then my Father. I have not sat down and just dealt with the fact that I cared for each and every one of those people and they are no longer here with me. Then thoughts of work and all I have to do flooded my thoughts. Things I wanted to do but couldn’t. People I wish I had but don’t.

I tried to dismantle the dashboard of my car. I felt alone in a world full of people. Here I am a woman with no source, no point of origin, just losing my shit second after minute. Home was not on my mind, I needed some immediate help. So once I could stop crying enough to drive, I made my way to the hospital. Yes, I. Needed. Help.

I walked into the hospital, I’m sure dishelved as ever with tears rolling down my face, hyperventilating and wheezing. I didn’t care who saw me. I didn’t care what anyone thought. I was actively losing my shit. And all by myself. The insurmountable thoughts that were swirling in my head were alarming. The lady at the information desk quietly walked me back to the mental health clinic. The receptionist that I usually laugh and joke with, looked concerned, she whispered to me to have a seat and she’d get someone out ASAP. As I sat in the corner my entire body tingled and trembled, and I just rocked back and forth sobbing like someone close to me had died all over again.

I felt like I had hit rock bottom. The nurse came to get me and as soon as she got me in her office, she asked if she could give me a hug. And this young lady hugged me like she was trying to absorb all the hurt, pain and anxiety I was experiencing. She patiently completed her assessment as I struggled to answer simple questions. And soon my PAC team was outside the door to “retrieve” me. They were ready to hospitalize me. And for once in my life, I was ready to go until a blink showed me a flash of my chocolate baby smiling. I cannot leave my kids, I have to get them from school. I left my PuppyBaby in my office and my FurSon was outside. My bonus son was starting basketball today and he was excited. “I can’t go, I gotta go home.”

I’m still worrying about everyone else except myself. And why? Because today I was shown don’t nobody got me like I got me. When everyone else disappoints me, I pick me up. When I’m downtrodden, I positively self talk bc who else has the time. I gotta care about me more than the people I care about. I have to prioritize my health before I crash out. Because my kids only have me…and I know the pain that comes with losing your Mother and I don’t want them to experience that any time soon.

Life didn’t stop. The world and the people in it still kept going. But if you or someone you know has PTSD, please try to understand what they are living with. Be supportive. The smallest compassionate gesture goes a long way. To all my veterans and grief stricken adults, it’s ok to not be ok and ask for help. I just pray that your help always comes or answers when you call.

If you’re struggling, it’s okay to share your feelings. Please reach out to someone. 988 Lifeline Chat and Text is a service of the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (formerly known as the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline), connecting individuals with crisis counselors for emotional support and other services via web chat or texting 988.

Another New Downplayed Normal

It seems like just yesterday, I was a carefree and semi-balanced woman, living life without a care in the world. But now, as I navigate the treacherous journey of this next transition in life early, my emotions are sent on a rollercoaster ride like never before. Mood swings, tantrums, and tears have become my new companions. It’s been a little while, have a seat. Let me share with you my experience this far.

First, let me emphasize that these mood swings are no laughing matter. They can be incredibly unsettling and confusing, not just for me but also for those around me. It is crucial to acknowledge that these emotional fluctuations are not a reflection of my true character or intentions, but rather a result of the hormonal imbalances unleashed by this unwelcome change in my life.

One moment I may find myself overwhelmed with joy, feeling on top of the world, appreciating every small victory or cherished moment. But then, out of nowhere, a cloud of melancholy descends, casting a shadow over everything I hold dear. I can go from smiling and laughing to crying inconsolably in a matter of minutes, leaving those close to me bewildered, confused and frustrated.

What exacerbates these mood swings is the unpredictability. Despite the fact that I am unable to predict my emotional response to any given situation, I sometimes withdraw from social interactions or isolate myself in an attempt to spare others from my swirling emotions. It can be an isolating experience, and often I feel like I’m watching myself from afar, wondering if I will ever regain control. This is truly an out of body experience.

On top of the erratic emotional shifts, this transition also brings physical discomfort and sleep disturbances, which act like fuel to the fiery emotional rollercoaster. The lack of quality sleep can further intensify my mood swings, leaving me irritable and easily frustrated during the day. Simple tasks that were once manageable suddenly become insurmountable challenges, and I find myself snapping at those around me when they offer their help or make well-intentioned suggestions.

Through it all, I find myself desperately seeking solace and understanding. I want those around me to recognize that these symptoms are not deliberate acts of provocation or manipulation; they are a side effect of the monumental transition my body is going through. I crave empathy, patience, and compassion from those that I love during this trying time.

Even though menopause is a temporary phase, I am currently struggling to envision myself on the other side. So, if you encounter a woman going through menopause, please remember the turbulence she may be experiencing. Be a pillar of support, offer a listening ear without judgment, and understand that what she is going through is merely a temporary storm in an otherwise vibrant an woman’s life.

Month Four

Here I am, 4 months after your transition…

Still not easier…in fact, it’s harder than last month.

I temporarily lost access to my best friend. The love of my life. The other half of my soul.

I reflect on how I wish you were able to meet him. He’s really a great guy. I can only imagine the conversations that you two would have had. Oh my goodness. You’d talk for hours. He’s the one that would have a beer with you. I even think, he would of been the one that could sweet talk you out of the house on a trip with us.

There is still so much I want to pick up the phone and talk to you about. My feelings, what’s going on, and get your advice, hear you sing or make a joke about anything and everything.

Your picture scrolled across my TV when it went to sleep yesterday. I looked at it and smiled. It was Brother’s going away party. You were standing next to him with his friends. I remember that day like it was yesterday. You were tired that day and you didn’t feel well but you made your way to his party. The party that I orchestrated. You were ready to go before it got dark so that you were at home. It was super hot outside and for a moment I had to make you come inside. You were sweating profusely and just didn’t want to be around “family”. Oh I understand now. Hell I don’t want to be around them now myself.

I sometimes find myself mad that I didn’t understand things that you told me growing up. And then I think maybe back then those weren’t things that I needed to understand. But now I have so many questions. I can hear you now. “Just shut up talking and listen! You ask so many damn questions. Inquisitive Ivy…” LOL. I loved it. You may have been one of few people who walked this earth who can make me hush.

There are days where I really forget that you are truly gone. And when I remember it hurts like it’s Day One all over again. I restart the stages of grief at least a few times a week. But it is ok. My new grief counselor says it’s normal. You never get over it. You learn to live with it…now that sounds better than time heals all wounds.