Breathe, Just Breathe
Updated: Nov 22, 2021
Today I am overwhelmed with a flood of emotions. You see, 27 years ago my son was born brain dead because I was in full-on eclamptic seizures and the blood rushed away from him to save my brain. I never got to hold him, never got to say goodbye, and that Mother’s Day was spent trapped on a maternity ward without my child. I woke up this morning and wished him a Happy Birthday and I prayed to God for the courage to get through this difficult day for me.
To further complicate my current state of mind, I found out last night, that one of my fellow bloggers, who helped me through a dark depression 6 years ago, took her own life in 2016. I was crushed and so saddened that this stigma that exists for people with pain, not mental illness but pain so overwhelming they have no idea what to do with it, drives some to take their own lives because it seems like a better option.
I am coming up on 2 months sober this Saturday, and one of the main reasons I became so fond of alcohol was because it allowed me to cry for my son, when I was so angry at God for taking him, and couldn’t feel anything but overwhelming rage. I remember playing music so loudly in my apartment and drinking, listening to the Cranberries, Zombie, and at one point in my inebriation, tears began to flow. It felt good, but for almost 27 more years, I only cried when I was drunk, very drunk.
Today, I cry when I feel joy, when I’m sad, when I remember my dysfunctional youth, and when I find out someone I cared for died way too soon.
The emotions are many today for me, and all I can hear in my head is Anna Nalick, serenading me, telling me to breathe, just breathe. That’s all I can do today, in this moment of sadness, as there is still hope because my heart can truly feel again.