It's been 4 months since I've been on SP; by far the longest break in my 5 years here.
There is a lot I would love to tell you (that isn't true), but I'm not going to write it all, because I think writing about what I haven't been able to do would be self defeating. Self defeating has become my specialty! But not tonight.
So I am going to try to tell you briefly about my months with compassion toward myself and leave judgment at bay. Not easy.
These months have easily been the hardest of my life. And the past 6 years were (in many ways) incredibly difficult, so that's saying something!
I was able to accompany my Dad through the last days, months, and years of his life. I got to be close to him regularly (they lived with us a bunch of that time). I got to care for him and my Mom in ways that meant so much to me and them. I got to share this poignant burden of grace with my spouse, who amazed me with her generosity and presence. I chose, time and time again, to care for them in ways that stretched me immensely. It hurt so badly so often. It brought on anger and fear and shame; it unearthed childhood issues I'd thought were long gone. It made me know, appreciate, (and honestly at times hate) my parents in new ways.
It was a blessed time.
He died May 6th. In most ways it was a good death. He decided to stop treatment. He went home on Friday and got to spend the next day and a half of alertness with his family, grandkids, and dogs all around him, watching his birds outside. He died early Monday morning. It was not a Hollywood death. There was fear and anxiety and pain. It undoes me to think about it.
I am getting along OK--what has felt like a huge gaping wound may feel a little smaller now. I am trying to honor my grief and not compare it to what I perceived others' experiences with grief to be. I know that it is harder than I thought it would be.
I did a lot right, and I wouldn't trade any of it. There are costs, though. I have struggled a bit with depression. My motivation has been very low, but improving. I have had to stop doing a lot in my life because my family, and now my grief, occupy a lot of my energy.
WIth all of that I have gained 28 pounds back. Exercise feels like a burden, and it feels so hard. Tracking is non existent to me. I have just started to care and pay attention (minimally) to what I am eating and drinking again.
The good news is, I have hope. I expect at this point that things will just get better, not worse. They've been getting worse for so long. But I feel a promise now.
And I'm trying to see this not as a redo or even as a new beginning or a recycled new attempt. I am trying to see it as just new. I am a different person, certainly, than I was 5 years ago when I started this. I am a different person than I was 5 months ago. I am a person who desires to know the confident, fit me again.
And I believe I will.
I make no promises about presence here on SP or tracking. This is one day at a time, for real. I think what has kept me so long is the knowledge that I couldn't be a consistent presence here. I don't know if I can now, but I wanted to at least write this blog, tell you where I've been, and tell you where I am.
Before I wrote this, I read so many blogs, and am reminded of how wonderful this site is. So much support and understanding!
I've missed it, and am glad that it is still here!
ps: here's me and my dad early this year, before the last time he went into the hospital :)