It's been 536 days since the birth of my first child, our son Bradley. A ‘phoenix rising” moment, I would later learn (one of many).
It's been 419 days since my Dad’s life ended by suicide. Only 117 days into Bradley’s life. Just 38 days after I started anti-depressant medication and cognitive behavioral therapy for postpartum depression and anxiety.
38 days. On day 1 of 38, I started to measure:
The Prozac would take 4-6 weeks to kick in, and then I would notice myself getting out of bed with less of a struggle. At 5 weeks with regular therapy and medication, I would go back to work after my maternity leave. My bosses assured they’d take it easy on me, time to adjust back into this alternate universe. “Perfect,” I thought, “they’ll go easy on week 6 of my medication, and then by week 7 or 8, I will feel better about everything.”
Everything included my self-worth, my ability to mother, to be a partner to my husband, to be anything but the still barnacle stuck to the wall of a damp dark cave. I couldn’t go on like this.
But after just one week of returning back to the office, day 38, my Dad disappeared from my childhood home. My Mom had called us kids, and the rest of my family. We started a search, knowing his intent to self-harm. We called state and local police and fire departments. We stalked EZ-Pass records online, with their hours delay, and we’d follow his path. We followed the investigative musings of two psychics. We followed his past, gravesite of a best friend, vacation spots from yore. We followed his present, marinas along the coasts of Pennsylvania, Delaware, and New Jersey.
On Day 39, my Mom and Uncle spotted his truck at a motel near the coastal shore of New Jersey, surrounded by police vehicles. Back up two days earlier, day 37, I had just started toying with the possibility of maybe being able to crawl out of the damp dark cave and face my future life. But one day later, my Dad had erased his.
Motherhood, daughterhood, wifehood… it all became extremely difficult again. Life, as I would learn, is H.E.A.L.I.N.G.
Happiness Exhaustion Anger Love Inspiration Noise Grief ...and everything in between.
Happiness Exhaustion Anger Love Inspiration Noise Grief ...and everything in between.
