Summertime Sadness

This has been the hardest summer. Foolishly, I believed that the tragedy of the summer was over as July became August. But then my brother had to go under the knife for a serious shoulder surgery that keeps him out of work for six months (he's at home recovering but it's a rough road ahead). And then Alex's 93 year-old grandmother took a bad spill that fractured her spine and many bones in her face (she's recovering in a rehab facility). And then my first cousin's husband suffered a heart attack (the verdict is still out on his recovery as he's still in the hospital).

I feel like most people around me can't begin to grasp the kind of anxiety and depression that go along with suffering such a profound loss. Many try to relate, but unless you've gone through it yourself, it's impossible to understand. I don't blame them - I wish I were in their position too! I try to look on the bright side, but the bright side doesn't include my dad and it never will. I just can't be happy right now, and according to my therapist, that's normal.

Alex is a fantastic partner and has worked overtime to try to help me put my life back together again - taking me on sailing adventures, celebrating our 4 year anniversary with a special dinner, and just being there in general. And my close friends have been a savior. That saying about not knowing who your friends are until things go south, well I can say from first hand experience, that the friends who have been there for me as I wallow in my despair are worth more than their weight in gold. I'm so grateful

A short rant:
I don't have room in my life for the people who don't know what to say to me and remain silent. If you care, you must be there. Period. Some may disagree with my philosophy, but it's what I believe. I'm sure that in the future, some from this small group of folks will reach out to me. And I will do unto them just have they have done unto me - I'll be silent.

I still walk around with shaky legs. I sometimes awake with a jolt at odd hours of the night but often I can't sleep at all. Sometimes I burst into tears walking down the street. Most days, at some point, a horrible wave of anger overwhelms me and an unbearable sadness washes over that anger. Other days I feel totally numb. Losing a parent cannot be compared to any other type of loss. It has its own chapter in the book of horribly sucky things that happen over the course of your life.

As Queen Elizabeth II said it so perfectly: Grief is the price we pay for love.