I have been suffering miserably from depression and my losses and have been doing my best to reach out to the few very close friends and family I still have. My dearest friend and cousin has been a part of my life as long as my memories exist. My little Prince and her oldest daughter were born within months of each other. And her youngest daughter adored and looked up to my younger son. We raised these kids together the way we were raised with each other.
I recently reached out to her about how much pain I was in. About how I have lost both of my parents and both of my children and how very very alone I felt. I know that her daughters love me and consider me family. And of course she reassured that. My losses are profound. She loved both of my boys dearly. She feels this loss on a very real level. I know this. And I appreciate it. Truly. Put conversation continues about how sad and hopeless I feel about the rest of my life. How I will always be an outsider now. The aunt the cool aunt. The sad aunt. The auntie.
She assured me that I will always have a place in her life and the life of her children. That they love and need me. How my nieces need me in her life. And I actually felt for a brief moment that maybe I do still have some family that will not only include me, but they wanted and needed me. I felt less hopeless for a brief moment.
Fast forward a week or so and my region is experiencing yet another record breaking nor'easter storm. Understand we live on the south shore of Long Island and we have repeatedly been abused by Mother Nature. I call her on the evening of the storm to check in on her and her kids.
Fortunately, they were faring well, no flooding no problems. As a matter of fact she was confident that regardless of the 30+ inches of snow, she felt confident that she would be able to dig out on the morning and take her daughter, my niece, out to a fabulous restaurant to celebrate her 20th birthday.
And sigh. I was breathless. Speechless. I was clearly not invited. And clearly it never crossed her mind that i would want to be invited or that it would hurt me to be excluded. We had a conversation less than a week before about how I was so afraid that I would be forgotten. And then. I was. I know she meant no harm by it. She is a good person. But it is her family. Her girls.
I would t have gone. I rarely leave the house. I barely go to work. But still. It hurt. I realized. That truly. I am on my own.
4 comments:
Sweetie, you have me out here in blog land who thinks about you all the time... mourns for your children and prays for you. You are not alone. You, your children and your story... this could be me and my child and my life.. I have read your blog from the beginning and it has helped and inspired me. YOU have inspired me. Please seek help.. I know that for me, an antidepressant helped me out of that dark place. We've never met, but we are kindred spirits.
Hugs
((hugs)) first, I'm sorry. I know it hurts to feel / be alone in your thoughts.
I'm glad you are writing again. I have missed you. And guess what, I live in NY now. On Long Island in fact. I'm still writing on my own blog. check the link on this profile.
I have missed you friend, I hope you write again soon.
I started following your blog when I first started writing 6 years ago. I don't know what to write to you because I simply can't imagine the pain you are in. I think of you often and you are in my prayers. Please keep writing.
She may not have thought you wanted to go to a party
for her daughter right now while you're depressed.It's
hard for some people to know what or how to include a
person who is living in deep grief.I hear your loneliness
and fears of being excluded.I hear your confusion of who
you are now.You are still you but going through something
unimaginable.Keep showing up for yourself.Writing is your
center,then keep writing.Whatever it takes,Kel.I am here
for you.I believe in you.I love you and I see you.Always,
Tab xo
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