Monday, April 3, 2017

Now that the smoke has cleared

One of the biggest struggles along my path of healing after my Dad's suicide, is being able to see how badly it affected me and those I love dearly in so many ways.

Now that the smoke has cleared, and I am stable and happy, I am finding it important to take responsibility for the things I've done or said that I wish I could take back. 

Suffering through such a horrific experience really changed me. I became bitter and spiteful. I took everything personally, and I pushed a lot of people away. The depths of depression took years from me. Years where I was a shadow of the person I wanted to become. 

Before that day, I was strong. I was kind and I was someone you could count on. I listened and did anything I could to make someone smile or laugh. I worked hard and played harder. I smiled until my face hurt and my eyes leaked. I laughed until I snorted, and I loved with all of my being. I was a super mom and a ride or die friend. 

But, trauma and depression change things. It clouds your judgement and puts thoughts into your head. Telling me I was worthless and unloveable. It haunts you at night and rules you all day. It made me tired, and sad. Always so very sad. I could go back to that day at any moment. Like I had a film reel replaying in my mind. Hearing myself scream. It's just one thought away. I became so engulfed in the darkness that it took over. 

I just couldn't find even a single ray of light. I felt like I was always on edge and a second away from crumbling into oblivion. It was a black hole that surely no one could return from. Then it was just darkness. Years of darkness. I have gaps, conversations I can't remember, memories that seem to have been erased. It's so hard to even explain what it feels like to have a brain that is working against you. It's exhausting. 

I lashed out a lot, I pushed away friends and family that I grew up with. I wasn't mentally around enough for anyone. Let alone myself. It was just too hard to think about anything other than anger. I simply couldn't deal. It was all too much to handle. 

My Father, My Daddy, the most important man in my life chose to leave me. That's hard to swallow. Let alone see splattered across the backyard of the home you shared. Every precious memory I had of him overshadowed by the madness. 

I wanted him back. There wasn't anyone who could fill the void. Nothing made the pain better. I tried every medication a psychiatrist could prescribe, I have done enough therapy to pay for my kids to go to college twice over. I am the master of coping skills. I am very well versed in PTSD and depression and am always up for anything that betters my mental health. 

It came down to time. Patience, and a lot of mistakes. I hurt people I wish I didn't. I said things I would love to erase, but know life doesn't hand out that luxury. 

I hope that those that I have wronged can forgive me. I don't expect it, but I'd love to think that if they weighed the bad vs good, that the good would forever outweigh the bad. The darkness that clouded what once was good. 

I have changed a lot. I have grown, and I can finally say I am so very proud of the woman I've become. I am laughing again, I am singing and dancing and enjoying the simplistic joys in life. I have come to find a wonderful peace with my Dad. While the memories of that days will never be erased. My life, my brain, and my spirit are healthy and happy. 

It may have taken over six years, but I think the smoke has finally cleared.