I would like to thank you for all the nice comments made on my earlier post; however I have a confession to make. I was neither brave nor strong. I was terrified. I became anxious about germs. Every time I lost my appetite I went nuts because that always signified infection, which meant another hospital admission. I withdrew into myself. I became depressed. I couldnt stand the physical pain, the way my life had changed so dramatically. I never shared all this before because I didnt want to appear weak. I wanted everyone to think I was so strong . . . even most of my family and friends didnt know any of this . . . until today. The real accolades go to my husband. He took care of me. When I got home from the hospital, I was too weak to shower. The doctor wanted me to shower twice a day, running water on my incision for ten minutes. I sat on a shower bench, complaining about how the water hurt my chest. Afterwards, by the time Steve had dried me off and dried my hair, I had already broken into a sweat and had to take a nap. He was instructed to scrub my incision daily. I would cry and tell him he didnt know how badly it hurt. It would make him feel bad. Of course I didnt know it at the time. After all, it was all about me, wasnt it? He would put my tennis shoes on me, and drag me for walks, while I was wearing pjs. He stood in front of me and protected me when neighbors would run toward me, just wanting to hug me. So why am I sharing this after all this time? Divulging all my shortcomings? Ive been doing a lot of thinking. Many of you know that a friend of mine who was like family to me took his own life some time ago. All of us who loved him are still in shock. We still cant understand. He had everything to live for as far as we could see. If he had any issues or suffered from depression, he kept it to himself. If he had opened up to someone, maybe we could have helped him. Maybe the death of Robin Williams also influenced my decision to confess. Suicide is not taking the easy way out. Depression is not just sitting around, crying, or having the blues. Depression is a blip in the brain, irrational thinking. It is not a weakness to be vulnerable, to need help and ask for it. It is called being human. If any of you think any less of me for revealing my truths to you, then so be it. I am a strong woman now. I dont need every single person to accept me . . . only the ones that count. ❤
Posted on: Mon, 01 Sep 2014 22:48:33 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015