First and foremost I want to say thank you for all the encouraging words on my previous blog post. I have a friend who has often told me that I tell way too much of my personal stuff to other people. I get it….some people are private and share nothing. They may even think it is inappropriate to do so. That is okay for them. I respect that is how they live their lives but I am not like that. Sharing is healing for me.
We can say all day long we know what ________ feels like but until we have walked two miles in those moccasins we don’t truly understand. I had encountered some depression and anxiety in my life and watched Lee go through some of the worst of it I had ever seen. But I didn’t fully FEEL it and KNOW IT until I experienced it up close and personally — walking two miles in a pair of moccasins that were apparently made especially for me.
Now I know…there is a place that is more dark and hopeless than I ever imagined. In the walls of this horrific and torturous dungeon are monsters that seem to be sucking the life right out of you. These demons convince you that you will never see the light of day again and that the world would be better off without your feelings of negativity. The world would be better off without YOU! They tell you that you drain those around you and bring them down. They ask how selfish can you be? They whisper reminders of every single mistake you have ever made — and open up the deepest wounds in your soul. Before you know it those “mistakes” one by one are screaming so loudly in your ear you can’t even hear yourself think…. Then they seize the moment and go right for your throat. ”See? You aren’t smart enough, you aren’t good enough, you will never get out of this. All you do is make mistakes and everyone sees what a complete and total failure you really are.”
In the midst of it, I did the only thing I knew to do. I cried and I prayed for God to help me. PLEASE help me!!! Griffen? Granny? Gerard? Anyone….anyone dammit! I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be a burden and I don’t want to make another mistake. I just want it all to go away.
I would love to say that the room filled with light and I was overcome with some kind of peaceful feeling but that isn’t what happened. Nothing happened or nothing that I could tell happened in the moments that followed. I stayed in bed for days with bronchitis and all of those dark feelings continued to repeat. Filled with shame that I wasn’t strong enough to will it away and ashamed of how far I had spiraled. I had become that person I never thought I would be. My attempts at positive thoughts were drowned out by all of the negative ones. I laid in bed and I thought of my brother. He would have been 28 on February the third. His smile forever extinguished except in photographs and my mind. What would he think? Would he be ashamed of me too?
I cried, I prayed and I cried some more. “Kim, it’s going to be okay, Kim. It is going to be okay.” There he was. Griffen! My sweet little brother whispering in my ear. Thank you God!
There are times that I ask myself are those little whispers and the numbers real or a big sister suffering and yearning for a sign from God, her sweet brother or someone in the realm of the unseen? The truth is some days I am 111% certain and other days I am not so sure.
Monday there was no doubt. There was the 514 — Griffen’s last day on earth, the 252 — the tag number on the truck he was killed in, the 111, and the 515 — which was his passing on date. I clicked on Facebook and there was a post from my cousin Renee, telling me that the book — Griffen — was the first thing she saw on her nightstand when she walked into her bedroom. She had been living in another city for awhile. Lord Knows I needed every single one of those signs. And with each sign I got that warm fuzzy feeling that if I just trust and let go everything will be okay. I will be okay.
So, now you know. I’ve been on the brink of nothingness — deeply drawn into a abhorrent dark abyss. Thank you for the support! Your comments on my previous blog post were like little nods from Heaven.
Like the “you can’t dance” mantra I hear my friend say….you share way too much. I can finally answer with a maybe I do. That is just who I am. I’m dancing. It might not be coordinated and I might look a bit awkward but I am determined to dance, to share, and to live.