I am happy to say that I do feel the weight of the depression that has been on me for so many weeks has lifted. More than a little. I am still sad and I expect that will linger for quite a long time, but the melancholy that made each day so heavy doesn't hit me quite as frequently or as hard.
Melancholy is such an odd word. I had never used it before now. But when it hit me, there was no other word for it. Blue, maybe. But that wasn't strong enough. Melancholy. A word so low sounding it almost scrapes the ground.
Driving was the worst. I hated driving anywhere. As a passenger I was fine, but as a driver, especially when I was in the car alone or with just the girls, it was so hard to keep from falling into it.
I think once I understood that there was nothing but time and patience that would pull me out, I was able to manage things better. When I was having a hard day I would let my husband know instead of pushing through and he would put the girls to bed that night. I let myself be sad and didn't try to tell myself that I shouldn't be.
There are many days where I desperately long for our previous world. I wish with all my heart that we would get up the next morning and drive to Mama T's like nothing had ever happened and that Max and Ali would see each other and do the happy dance they always did whenever they were apart for a long time. I wish Mama T could smile without tears behind it. I wish Max's mom could hug her baby and not have to choose sides between two people she loves.
There are also many days now, where I can look at my family and be content. Where my heart doesn't hurt every minute. When I wake up at night I can fall back to sleep without the fears and worries rattling in my head.
I can watch my growing children and know that I do and will always do everything I can for them. Protect them in every way possible.
The only thing any of us can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other and making our path the best one that we know how.
And the rest has to be left to God and faith in his plan.