The recurring theme of my depression must be getting old for you, it certainly is for me. Holy smokes, but its bad right now. I was driving to work on Tuesday and as I went through the part of town where my folks live - they're snowbirding it in Yuma right now - I thought to myself how much I was looking forward to them being home, and pictured us spending time together, sharing meals. And the sudden recognition of the jagged hole in the tableau of my family was like being punched in the stomach.
The situational depression and the seasonal depression are an overwhelming combination.
I've never tried so hard to conceptualize what happens after death as I have this last month or so. In my heart I know my brother is in a better place. Sometimes I can feel him as if he's just this close. I get a strange sensation in the top of my head and it feels like if I just reached out my hand I could actually touch him. And I realized that he's OK, its just that I am not because I have to go through the rest of however long this life of mine is going to be without him.
There was always the four of us. Many branches, many relatives and friends, but at the core of it, us four. For good or for bad, we know each other better than anyone else. All those years together, loving, fighting, growing. Sharing meals. Sharing triumphs, losses, experience. Four corners. Four posts holding the roof on the house that is our little family. With one of the posts missing, the ceiling tilts madly, dizzyingly and feels as though it might just fall in.
That's when I have to try really hard to just stop thinking about things.
There are antidotes to this.
They DO help.
Trying to capture some video of Gizmo wrestling with the big dogs and laughing hysterically because I simply CAN'T post the bit where he's taking advantage of Roscoe being distracted by T-Bone and frantically humping him as fast as he can. Gizzie simply doesn't grasp the fact that if either of those boys had a mean bone in their body he'd be the hors d'oeuvre they choke down before dinner.
Having Juliet adamantly pl0p down on the keyboard of my laptop because she has decided its time to stop working and start petting.
Watching my husband rock I'm So Excited on Just Dance 3 for the Wii and laughing until the tears come. Its so sweet and touching and completely hilarious all at the same time.
Being cuddled at night by a dachsund, a Chihuahua AND a cat, all under the covers and all pressed so tightly to various parts of my anatomy that I can't move.
Joking with my dad on the phone. Hearing my mom's voice.
Drive-time conversations with my children. The hugs that seem to never end and yet don't last quite long enough. The "I love you too's" that always come, even when they get a little exasperated with me telling I love them every five minutes.
When the moments come when I feel overwhelmed by the I don't understand WHY's and the sensation of falling and the choking sobs, these are the things that pull me back up and into the daylight.
So I'll watch the dogs play and I'll pet the purring cat and I'll hug my kids and dance with my husband and talk to my mom and dad. Spring is coming. I'll get through this.