And I am feeling my fall blues approaching too soon. It’s like, “What’s the point? Why are we here?” I know it’s the depression, but that doesn’t help mentally. My logic dictates one thing but my emotions tell me something else and their voice is stronger. I want to bury myself in a hole or run away from this. Depression or any mental illness stays with you all the time You cannot brush it away, hug it away, or run from it. You have to face it, get help, talk to people, and all those things that the depression tells you NOT to do in order to “feel” better. Even then it is only temporary because something brings it back. Whether it is something you control or not, it comes back. I tend to self-sabotage. Stop taking the meds I know that help. I feel lazy and worthless and it is hard to crawl out of the hole. I know I will. However, there will always be another one.
This is my daughter’s new (from yesterday) tattoo. A very important message.
For those of you who do not know, the semi-colon is a symbol for suicide awareness. The butterfly can be a symbol of rebirth. And the words speak for themselves.
The most crucial message to teach our children is love. Especially loving oneself. And in order to teach this, the parent must live it.
Monday already. And June, we’re almost halfway through the year!
Somedays I feel like I have done absolutely nothing, Mostly those are the days when projects are many but small. Larger projects give me more of a sense of accomplishment.
How about you?
Haven Conner took care of her sisters better than their mother ever did. When a social worker came to the apartment one night to forget his demons, he felt compelled to save the three girls from living with their whore mother.
Once Child Services took over the case, the girls were separated. The two youngest were lucky. They were adopted. Haven moved from foster home to group home to living from day to day on the streets of the city.
One summer morning while playing a game of basketball with his friends, Elias saw a young woman playing guitar under a tree in the park. Neither Elias nor Haven realized how that moment would be the beginning of a new road for both of them.
Haven’s Destiny is a romantic, rags to riches story that will tug at your emotions like no other. Haven discovers the most important hero in life is herself. If you like tales about heroes and survivors, Haven’s Destiny is a novel you won’t want to put down.
Pain and sorrow rode with us to the church that day. My fully engorged breasts reminded me of what I had lost. Most of the day was a blur. A moment of my eldest daughter’s face filled with questions. All others wore somber expressions. People had no idea what to say on occasions like those. What do you say to a mother who lost her child before even meeting her little one?
My mother walked to the back of the SUV. The gentleman from the funeral home pulled the tiny white casket out of the back and handed it to my mother. Part of me still wishes I had done this last one thing for my baby. At the time, I was afraid of falling. Not just by tripping. I was afraid my whole being would break.
The days leading up to the moment Mom put the casket down were horrendous. I lost my child and nearly lost my husband in the process. People made the effort to comfort me, give me advice. Even if a person has had a miscarriage or stillbirth cannot understand completely what goes through the mind of another.
His cousin had told me to do a c-section. He told me how many losses she’d had. I didn’t give one ounce about what she had to say. Not once was she twenty-eight weeks along. My baby was a fully formed human being when I held her breathless body in my aching arms. No one has lived my life. No other person could feel what I was feeling in that one instant that changed my life.
The high holy season of the religion into which I was born. While I know the story and I hope we do go to heaven and see those who have gone before us, I can’t say that this season gives me peace. It’s the opposite for me.
My darling Baby Maggie, Maria Magdelena DeLeon, named after her grandmother, was lost to us Easter Monday at twenty-eight precious weeks. She grew wings before I was able to hear her cry.
My tears still come although now I do not turn into a sobbing mess the way I did those first few months, even years after we “lost” her.
In the heaven I believe it, there are no tears, no pain, no fear. I hope one day to see her again but not until I am done here with her sister.
Blessings this season to you and your family!