Keeping In Touch With My Reality

Today has been an interesting one for me. I have been seeking help in order to help deal with the depression I still feel since losing my younger sister and am finally beginning to realize that all the difficulties, personal ones, I have had over the past years - read that as "most of my life" - may actually have roots in my genetic heritage and are not and never have been imaginary. Unfortunately, the events that have savaged my family over the past ten years have not been imaginary either and the two influences, when coupled together as they have been for me, have been devastating. Today I found myself finally accepting that there are things about me, at least in the physical realm, that I cannot, and have never been able to, control. Those things being the events (plus some) that I have shared in my blog and my DNA. If anyone out there ends up reading this, I hope my words offer some hope, some comfort. We are not alone on this planet and there are a lot of people with kind hearts and minds whose purpose in life is to help those of us not strong enough at certain times in our lives, for whatever reason, to overcome our difficulties and regain more control of our lives as they seem to death spiral around us. I may end up taking a mood stabilizing drug, in addition to the antidepresant, because my brain chemistry, more so than any attitude, habit of thought, or determination on my part, is fighting against my being able to go on with my life and recover from the onsaught of the past ten years.

I feel no embarrasment or shame at making these revelations. The antidepressant has helped me manage my life once again, although at a lower level of effectiveness and productive effort than I would like, and at least I am no longer spending days on end so sad I cry incessantly and cannot make myself stop or trying to keep from going nuts with worrying over things that might or could happen, but have not - you would think there had been enough in the way of loss, tragedy, and pathos such that my mind would tend to run in the opposite direction rather than manufacture imaginary possibilities and worries, but there you have it and there I am. In a way, the thought of something that might stabilize my thinking and emotions enough to allow me to get back to my writing (I love to write poetry and would like to finish my novel and, perhaps, start another one) and possibly set me free enough from my anxieties and losses to concentrate some energy on losing weight and getting myself into a healthier lifestyle and shape is encouraging and a relief. The antidepresant has helped me tremendously and the thought of being free of some of the other little quirks and oddities I have had to deal with most of my life, and still encounter even though on the aforementioned medication, is mildly exhilerating. Hope seems to be returning and my focus shifting off of the distinct possibility of yet more tragedy and pain to other pursuits and areas of life. One step at a time.

If anyone is wondering what I am talking about as regards my genetic heritage, it turns out that on my Dad's side of things there is a distinct and traceble trail of manic-depressiveness with some schizophrenia, paranoia, and bipolar disorder thrown in for good measure. I particularly like the tale about my great grandfather who, upon being given the choice of going to jail or to the state hospital, chose the hospital from whence an acquaintance then helped him escape. He made his way out to Ohio, "remarried" (his first mariage never having been dissolved), and was eventually murdered in his sleep by a man he had threatened. He was shot in the head with a hunting rifle.

I also have two first cousins who commited suicide, one by hanging himself in his early twenties and the other by a drug overdose, although she may or may not have planned it that way. In both cases my cousins were found by their mothers. I cannot imagine the grief and pain a mother must feel at such a moment. I hope the doctor and psychologist can help me seperate the chemical from the very real reasons I and my family have to weep. My younger brother has been diagnosed over most of his adult life as schizophrenic, bipolar, and manic-depressive, and I have another relative who, as a young man, had a great deal of difficulty "getting his act together." Another grandparent (according to his wife) would "sulk" for days on end, refusing to even get out of bed. She said she would usually just let him stew in his own juice and get on with the housework, taking care of the children, etc. until he snapped out of it. I am hoping to be able to provide more information regarding the familial aspect of things psychological in the near future, if only for my own understanding if not to help others who may find themselves struggling in the same ways themselves.

All of that and a breast cancer gene - what more can nature offer? (Rhetorical question - PLEASE do NOT try to answer it!)

The past ten years have had a tremendous amount of difficulties in them for both my boyfriend and his family and me and my family. Starting in 1998 or 1999, we lost his mother and one of our baby cats within the same week, followed in 2001 by the loss of my mother. We then lost two more of our precious feline friends and joined the battle with my Dad when it was discovered he had breast cancer (followed over the ensuing years by two more bouts with two different types of cancer - three types in total).

Almost as soon as my Dad's initial surgeries, chemo and radiation treatments were done, and also on the fifth anniversary - to the day - of our mother's death, my younger sister found out she had leukemia. Nineteen months after Patty's initial diagnosis she passed away the evening of her son's eighteenth birthday. A few weeks later, just before Thanksgiving 2007, my boyfriend's brother-in-law passed away. Although his death was not unexpected, it was very difficult for both of our families to get through the holidays. Christmas of 2007 sucked big time. The first anniversary of Patty's death will be this Saturday. My nephew will be spending his birthday with his Dad, stepmother, and younger half-sister, while his other half-sister (my niece) will be spending the day with her father and younger half-brother. I will be at my Dad and step-mothers' house meeting some of her relatives, desperately missing both my niece and nephew as well as their Mom, and hoping my nephew is having a happy birthday despite the many sad memories the day may chance to bring.

There are also many incidents which I cannot currently place within the framework of the above narrative, but which were concurrent with the flow of time involved; the tragic death of a close cousin of my boyfriend's as well as that of her second husband, various illnesses attributable to the genetic heritage of my Dad's family occuring amongst cousins distant and otherwise, bad news about and bad health for beloved pets, the loss of jobs, the struggles with failing finances, the house falling apart under us, worries about the health of elderly, very dear relatives, our own health issues taking our time and energy away from those we love, and so on. Now if I could only emulate the writing style of Lucy Maud Montgomery as she had Anne of Green Gables speaking, all in one huge paragraph which has always left me breathless when I read it, and you would have a small idea of how all of the past ten years has felt to me.

Such is my life and those of the others whose lives are intimately entwined with my own. The evening sun is gleaming softly through the window as I type this, the sound of lawn mowers drift through also as people try to tame their lawns one last time before the New England winters make it unnecessary for the next several months, punctuated by the periodic sqwackings of the birds as they gather together prior to flying south of here for a winter's vacation in warmer climes.

I do not cry today. Perhaps it is the medication, perhaps the healing over the passage of time from the events recorded above, perhaps the soft and soothing air of a beautiful evening. Whatever the reason, there are no tears on my keyboard this evening and I am lulled by the sounds and scents of the day. Perhaps I will try to finish learning a new song, perhaps I will write another poem and post it here later, perhaps I will do some dishes; whatever I choose to do, it will be done with more peace than I have felt in a long time. This may be due to the hope of a further deliverance from wayward emotions and thoughts that have tried to rule my life for years, the effect upon me of the mild and beautiful weather, or the releasing of further burdens by sharing these things with the hopeful thought that maybe someone, somewhere who needs words such as these may find them here, receive help from them, or feel comforted by them - even if only by gaining the knowledge that they are not alone despite feeling that way.

Blessings and peace to all those who may read this far. It is a good thing to be able to live, love, and hope.

Love, Izzlebug