Sunday, October 6, 2024

Grief Depression

Last week, we celebrated our fifth Rosh Hashana without Sonzee. Sitting by the window the first morning, my brain started to write like it used to. Three days later, I hope to remember what I need to get out of my mind. 

I spoke to someone last week who mentioned they were comfortable enough with me to make a comment that when someone is depressed they just want to give them a list of things to do because that will occupy their time and they won't have time to be depressed. Ha! I thought to myself if you only knew what the true weight of depression feels like. I cannot speak for typical depression, however, I can speak volumes for grief depression. That is if there is even a distinction between the two? I honestly do not know.

It has been 4 years 8 months and 3 days that I have been living with grief depression. I am unsure if that makes me an expert or not, but I feel like it gives me some merit. It has been 3 years 2 months and 3 days since the unspoken time limit of my grief should have ended. (You get a solid 18 months to actively, openly, and without fear of judgment truly grieve your child, after that, the timer on the invisible clock beeps, and the grief and depression of your dead child disappear, as simple as saying "grief and depression be gone!") JUST KDDING, they don't actually disappear, (SURPRISE!) we bereaved parents just become pros at keeping it bottled up, safe for only specific people, or only letting it out accidentally when the emotions become too overwhelming to suppress. 

The truth is, my days are beyond busy. Between working full time, taking care of a home, and working the evening taxi driving shift for the 4 remaining children I have to their various after-school activities you would wonder how I could actually have time to add grief depression to my list. I assure you, like 1000 pounds of bricks sitting on your chest it is there. Suffocating its recipient to the core, making it beyond difficult to literally put one foot in front of the other. There is no real choice in the matter. Can you imagine telling your boss that you aren't coming to work because the weight of a collapsed skyscraper is sitting on your chest not allowing you to move? Do you think your living children would understand if you said, "Sorry honey, no gymnastics today, your dead sister has tied me down to the chair and I am unable to get up to drive you". Grief depression at its lightest is a 5lb bag of flour sitting on your chest. You shift it around in your arms for yourself to make it appear easier to carry, but the reality is, it is not. In the words of a favorite princess, "conceal, don't feel", becomes a daily mantra. 

Life continues to go on and quickly at that. There is little time to wallow in the grief depression, and sometimes wallowing is even too exhausting, but if you wanted to know where I will be for the next week of my fall break, it will be basking in the depression of my grief on my couch playing FarmVille and allowing the weight of the fact that I buried my almost 5-year-old little girl 4 years 8 months and 3 days ago sit right smack dab on the center of my heart, because grief depression is heavy and sometimes you need to relearn how to carry on with it because it moves itself right on back to the very top of the to do list. 

The Mighty Contributor