My post today from my personal Facebook page…

In the last few days I’ve had multiple conversations about depression and grief, and I thought I would share some of my “wisdom” here, too.

First, when my husband moved out, mom died, husband died, stepfather blamed me for Mom’s death, brother went into a deep depression, kids were understandably a mess, and then some, I had normal feelings. I had days when I didn’t want to get out of bed. I had days when I didn’t want to hurt like that anymore. I had days when I just wanted to be done. So what I did was get out of bed, interact with my kids, make meals, get groceries, deal with legal stuff, get out of the house for something “fun”. I didn’t lie in bed. I didn’t check out. I didn’t drink myself into oblivion or disappear into a TV BECAUSE:
I WAS THE ADULT, and
I STILL HAD TWO KIDS WHO NEEDED A MOM.
They had lost one parent. I was not going to let them lose a second one.
I chose to be Mom. I chose to show up for my kids.

Second, even with the loss and changes of the last 7 months, I have not stayed in bed because I am not going to let “dark” win. That is my temperament. I refuse to lose a perfectly good day to sadness or loneliness. I choose to get out of bed and accomplish something. Maybe I don’t accomplish as much I thought I would or could, but I don’t lose a whole day to sadness or depression or being miserable.

Third, I set realistic “success” expectations. There have been a few days when my goals were: brush my teeth, take a shower, eat. I know. So very basic, BUT mentally and emotionally I was exhausted from dealing with the estate, all the changes that happened one on top of the other, dealing with other people in regards to Raymond’s estate. I was very aware of how easily I could slip into “depression”, so I created an anti-depression plan. For one week my goals were eat, brush, shower. The next week, I added something else. The next week another thing or two. The real goal was not to let myself hit a place where I was okay just checking out and doing nothing but doing SOMETHING that kept me engaged with self-care and feeling successful.

Fourth, I gave myself permission to focus on me and not everyone else. I have had several days when I have turned off the notifications on my phone for everyone but my kids. That was a good choice. I tend toward being a caregiver at my own expense, and that is a habit I have intentionally stopped. It is one of the most mentally healthy things I’ve ever done.

Fifth, I gave myself permission to do something “mindless”. I have seen the series Bones a few times. In the last six months I watched the whole series again while crocheting twin-size afghans. The show was mindless, and the pattern was straight double stitch. It kept me engaged in something while letting me check out.

Sixth, I cultivated a sense of wonder. I have fallen completely in love with photographing plants. I am fascinated by them, and that has really helped me not be completely wrapped up in sadness.

Seventh, I learned how useful working in spurts with moments of total rest are. As I’ve mentioned before, there is a lot of Raymond’s things that had to go so I could move into the house. I put a lot in the garage, but a lot had to go quickly. I was working in the garage one day going through boxes that had come from the farm that he had simply stacked in the garage, and I began to sob, like chest aching, ugly cry, had to sit down sob. I did that for several minutes, and when I was finished, I set everything back into the box I was going through, closed the lid, and went back in the house. I was done. I could not make myself give away one more thing, so a few days later, I rearranged boxes and made an organized stack of his things in the garage, and when I am ready, I’ll tackle that again. That isn’t right now. That doesn’t mean I am weak, as the over-achieving voice in my brain says. It means a lot has happened, and I have hit my limit. Even a marathon runner cannot run forever. They have to stop. They let their bodies heal. They take intentional rest, and that is what I did. I took a shower and spent the rest of that day and the next day watching Bones and crocheting. That isn’t “escaping” or hiding. That is intentionally letting my whole being rest instead of being on high-alert. Spurts of hard work with intentional rest promotes healing.

We don’t often use the word “sadness”. Personally, I talk about struggling or going through a hard time. People use the word “depressed” a lot, or we talk about “grief” in a very general way, but I think we need to use the word sadness and own the experience.

My brother died, and I am horribly sad. That sadness is always present, and it leaks out of my eyes at the oddest times, but I refuse to let that sadness consume the rest of my life. There is so much to be joyful for, and I refuse to lose the possibility of joy to the sadness. Some days I have to fight for joy. I will go hunting for it. I will take my camera, get in my truck, and start driving dirt roads for anything flowering, and crazy enough, it is September after a hot summer, and there are flowers blooming in fields and in bar ditches, and I stop and take pictures.

Sometimes I find joy in going to Starbucks for a Pink Drink. I like the drink, but just the name makes me smile. Seriously. Who names a beverage “Pink Drink”?

I don’t think the sadness of Raymond being gone will ever disappear. I think the empty space will become more comfortable, like loss does. Life ends up building around the empty space and making it less jarring, but the loss never goes away. But I refuse to let the “empty spaces” of my life become black holes that take the rest of my life with them.

I have learned to take breaks and rest my whole being.
I have learned to go to bed earlier on some days.
I have learned to go hunting for joy.
I have learned to let relationships grow distant because they require more than I have to give.
I embrace the power of quirky. I now have a Venus flytrap. Her name is Venus McFly, and I find her fascinating. I was absolutely thrilled when I watered Beatrice and she had sprouts.

But you need to know, that joy and fascination and “feel good” wasn’t there when I started photographing flowers. It wasn’t there when I brought hime Beatrice from Home Depot. I was still really “numb”. Nothing really felt good, BUT I knew if I kept investing in the journey and if I kept engaging long enough and in the right places (not chemicals, shopping, food, the typical mindless addictions), eventually those things would feel good, and now they do. I call it “priming the pump”. I made sure my soul/heart/mind had something to enjoy that it could grab onto when it was ready to feel something good again.

So I guess my things that I feel like were really helpful were:
Get out of bed anyway.
Do something that feels successful everyday.
If you are a parent, show up for your kids.
Invest in “joy” even before you feel it.
Make space for healthy checking out.
Use the word “sad” and let myself experience that while pursuing joy.
Working in spurts and letting myself rest.
Intentionally rest.

Maybe there are some other things, but those are what come to mind right now. Understand, I’m not saying this fixes everything. It doesn’t. I’m still sad. I still cry regularly. It is still so unreal that he is gone. That is still very real, but these are some strategies or steps I use that keep me moving through, instead of becoming “stuck in”, the loss, sadness, and change .

I hope that helps someone, and if you know someone who needs this, please share it. If you want to talk about what I’ve written or want more information on the strategies I talked about, I am happy to talk with you about that. If you are grieving and need an empathetic listener, I am sorry. My spoon drawer is empty, and I am running on sporks, so I am not going to be very helpful, but I’ll pray for you.

Comfort, blessings, and quirky weird things,
Jerri Kelley