I wrote a few days ago about grief and depression and how they are both twins that accompany my days right now. I have been giving it a lot of thought these past few weeks – how do I tell what feelings and thoughts are depression and which are grief…or are they so intertwined that it’s impossible to separate the two…or does it even matter?
The fact is that I am searching for the answer to this because in my mind it gives me a glimmer of hope that I will be “better” eventually…that someday I won’t have a mind filled with thoughts that I shrink from…thoughts that fill my mind’s eye with images and memories that turn my insides into a fire that hurts so badly.
If this is depression, then it can be “fixed”. There might be a magic bullet that will make it go away. Maybe a certain yoga, the right running route, a tea, a meditation or something, anything, that will make this all easier . Depression is a mental illness and mental illnesses can be cured – or at least managed. This is my thread that I hold to. As hard as it was to admit that I am depressed and need help, it’s now become a life raft for me to hold to that will bring me to a safe place where I am ok again and I can see live my life without this weight.
Grief on the other hand… if this pain and this trudge everyday to put one foot in front of the other is grief… then what hope is there? The grief may get easier to live with as time passes but it won’t ever be gone. Willie will never be not dead. No amount of time will ever change the reality that Willie killed himself.
So I wonder and I vacillate between hope and despair, sometimes moments or seconds are all that separate the two extremes. I hold to the platitudes spoken or written to me by well-meaning loved ones that I just need to embrace my “new normal” and try to not lash out with the anger that sits just below the surface as I lack the belief that any semblance of normal will ever be mine again.
I don’t know who I am anymore. I struggle with a feeling of loss of my Self as I try to navigate my life as it is now. The “Me” I thought I knew is replaced with someone that I don’t understand and I don’t much like most of the time. Has grief changed me into this person for good or is this a transitory stage on my way through healing? I don’t know and I don’t have faith that I’ll learn the answers any time soon.
Unending questions without answers.