The experience of loss

Despite the sentiment I expressed in my last post, and which I do strongly believe, a number of losses occurred over a few years' time that  had a profound affect on me in one way or another.

My brother-in-law Al passed away in May 2008. He was about 12 years younger than me. He had a very slight learning disability but he was everyone's friend. He was my friend. His death was completely unexpected. I was shocked and grief stricken. I will always miss him.

The flood in June 2008. I include this because it was such a disastrous event for our city. In a way it was a death of permanence. It showed everyone that nothing lasts forever. I wasn't personally affected but my in laws' house was flooded, more than halfway up in the main floor. And their house was six blocks away from the river. At the time I don't remember feeling profound grief. But afterwards any reminder of that event will choke me up and cause instant tears. 

My mother-in-law passed away in September 2011. She was very sweet and caring, and accepting of who I was when I came out. In many ways I felt closer to my in laws than to my own parents. My mother-in-law's health started to deteriorate some time after The Flood. Sue and all her siblings were with her during her last couple of days in Hospice. All of them, and I, were deeply grief stricken after she was gone.

My own mother's health began to fail around mid-2011. She had fibromyalgia and something similar to cystic fibrosis. This last was causing some kind of fiber-like growth in her lungs making it more and more difficult to breath. She eventually required extra oxygen which restricted her mobility somewhat. During her last few days my father and all of my siblings and their families were at my parent's house. The day before she passed away I stayed overnight there. Her breathing became more labored and she was for all intents and purposes unconscious. She passed away in her own home in February 2012. This was the second time I was present during the last hours of a close relative. Although I didn't feel close to my parents, my mother's passing had a deep effect on me.

My youngest brother Jay died in February 2013. I got a call from my sister the night he died and at first I could not believe it. No way could this be true. He was ten years younger than me. Apparently it happened right after he got off work. He was driving away from his workplace when it happened. His car went off the road still within the business grounds where his coworkers found him. His death was caused by a calcification of the heart. He was married to a nurse but rarely of ever saw a doctor for anything. At that time my father was in the hospital due to a growing issue with lower back pain. Since our mother had passed away just a year earlier we were afraid this news would have an adverse effect on him. I believe that Jay and my sister were closer to dad than anyone else. Even though Jay lived an hour and a half away, he came to visit dad quite often to just spend time with him and help him with things. I had a very difficult time at Jay's wake and couldn't bring myself to talk much with anyone. My sister and brother Kevin were awesome in the way they stayed beside the casket and talked to everyone lined up to view the casket. And what an incredible testament to how well liked my brother Jay was. It seemed that almost everyone from his workplace, from his church, neighbors and friends, and many relatives came to the wake. The line was long most of the evening and the funeral home had to stay open hours after the scheduled ending of the wake just to accommodate everyone. I think losing Jay affected me more profoundly than all the rest. Even now, years after his death, I can't think of him without weeping.

Dad passed away in December 2015. During the preceding two years his health gradually declined. He suffered with lower back pain. The doctor told him that surgery might fix it but that the place where the surgery was required was too near vital nerves and the surgery could cause critical damage. He had severe hearing loss as well as losing much of his eyesight. As I've said I didn't feel very close to my parents which was more my own fault than theirs. While I never felt much familial love for them, I never blamed them for it. I did feel close to my siblings but all three had moved far from home. I never blamed my siblings for this either but since they lived so far away and I stayed in town, I was the primary contact to my parents whenever they needed immediate help with anything. As their health began to fail their need for support increased. I will never, ever blame my parents or my siblings for this situation, but as my parents' need for assistance increased, so did my level of stress. A month before dad passed away I had made my second attempt to end my life. It's entirely possible the shock of what I did contributed to dad's passing but that is something that I will never know with certainty. In December 2015 dad's health became bad enough that he was taken to the hospital's ICU. After a few days he had reached a point where the doctor told us that he was still living only while wired up to the machines. We had the dreaded decision to make of whether to pull the plug or not. My brother, sister and I reached the decision together based on dad's wishes of not wanting to continue while hooked up to machines. This was the most difficult decision I ever had to make.

They are not really gone

Recently a friend was grieving deeply for a beloved pet that had passed away.
This is what I wrote to her:

Once you welcome them into your home, and start giving your love to them, they cease to be animals. They become true members of your family. The unconditional love you give them, they return doubled and tripled in their own innocent way. In many ways the bond they form with you is stronger and truer than any you might have with people. You, dear friend, are a special kind of person that finds it easy to extend this kind of unconditional love to our slightly more furry friends. Your bond with those that become members of your family has no equal in the human-only world. This kind of bond that you form is worlds higher and better than most people have ever realized. You have such a special, caring soul which now has an important part missing. Try to remember the love you had when they were still on this planet with you. Know that the love you provided has elevated the soul of your departed one to a higher plane than that reached by "ordinary" creatures. You two will be together again once your own spirit ascends to that same plane. They are not really gone, they are saving a place for you.

I love you, dear.

I fell deeper down the rabbit hole

I thought everything would be okay if I just kept busy. If I did that, maybe I wouldn't dwell on my inner darkness. By mid-2015 I had gone back to work. I went back to the PFLAG and transgender support groups. I joined the Cedar Rapids Pride committee. I got in a book club. I remember those things. There may have been one or two more. I cannot exactly say that this was a mistake but it did prove to be too much. I felt so much stress that I quit some of these things shortly after starting them. I think the real problem was that Depression was tightening its grip on me. No matter what I did I could not feel good anymore, no joy in anything. And I kept it to myself. Again. After that first incident in February I was afraid to admit to anyone that my mental state was still down in the pit. It became a simmering shitpot. The therapy and medications hadn't erased the depression, I was feeling increasingly stressed by the world around me, and I couldn't bring myself to tell this to anyone. Every thought running through my mind was negative. It seemed to me that it had been a huge mistake to have failed my suicide attempt in February.

By October 2015 I was again feeling that I wanted out of this life. I felt absolutely no hope. So I began making another plan. This time I just had to succeed. On a warm day in November I left work early, went home, and started swallowing all kinds of pills again. This time I saved the ones that would put me to sleep for last. I was well on my way when I started feeling really weird. I felt like I was vibrating and that I was being covered or wrapped up in something so that I could barely move. And I got scared. I wasn't sure how to contact Sue at her workplace and somehow was able to call my therapist for help. She told me to stop everything I was doing and she would call for help and get ahold of Sue. I was only partially aware of everything after that. I must've gotten the front door unlocked because soon there were some cops and firemen in my living room asking questions. I really don't remember much after that until I woke up realizing I was in the hospital ICU again. After a day or two they moved me to the Behavioral Management Unit again. After another week there I was sent home.

Was I cured now of depression? Not likely. But it was back to therapy and an ever changing prescription list intended to help me maintain some semblance of sanity.

Three years and ten months?!?

Wow! It's way past time to brush the dust off of this blog thing. Much has happened since August 9, 2015. Much is beyond the capacity of my memory cells to recall. But much needs to be said before I continue on with this thing.

The bad news is that my recent bout with depression lasted about four years. During that time I attempted suicide twice and two other times I became suicidal enough to require hospitalization. Yikes! The good news is that I finally got past that depression last Fall. Yayy!

There were ups and downs during that period of depression, mainly downs. Now that I've left it behind I am looking at the future. Setting some goals and making some plans. One day at a time.