07/18/2024
Transparent Thursday (Long Read Warning: This content may be triggering for some readers.)
I never imagined I'd be sharing this, but here I am, hoping my story might offer solace to someone else who feels lost in their struggles, and as a part of my own healing process.
The challenges hit me like a freight train—a cancer scare, a child behind bars, and the unraveling of my own sanity. Panic attacks seized me day and night, leaving me gasping for air wherever I stood. Depression settled like an unshakable weight, accompanied by shame, guilt, helplessness, and a profound sense of isolation. Numbness, nausea, migraines—all became daily companions. The fear of judgment and the weight of failing as a parent added even more to my burden. Through it all, my marriage teetered on the brink.
I vividly remember one Friday morning, tears flowing uncontrollably as I lay in bed for hours. The simple thought of getting up felt like scaling Everest. Heart heavy, I curled into a fetal position, sobbing. It took every ounce of strength to ask my husband to pray with me, and to call my mom and sister to join in. They responded without hesitation. By late afternoon, the tears had subsided, and I managed to sit up. It wasn't a monumental achievement, but it was a start. I began to understand that prayer had a power I hadn't fully grasped before.
For weeks, I felt nothing but emptiness and numbness. Other days, I wandered through a fog, tears flowing endlessly. I felt utterly inconsolable. The pain—physical, mental, emotional—became my constant companion. There were moments when giving up seemed like the only option.
Since last January, I've mostly kept silent about it all. Every time I attempted to open up, another setback knocked me down. Yet, amidst the struggle, things gradually improved. Not overnight, not in the polished manner of a Hollywood script, but slowly, painfully, progress came.
The toll on my marriage was immense. It's challenging to be a supportive partner when you're barely holding yourself together. Initially, my husband tried to help, bringing me tea and coaxing me to eat. However, as days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, I could sense his frustration growing. I was so wrapped up in my own pain that I failed to see his.
Conversations dwindled. Our interactions revolved around grocery lists, grandkid schedules, and meal planning. We struggled to connect on a deeper emotional level, unable to share our fears, sadness, and anger as we once did.
Intimacy disappeared. Small issues escalated. Looking back, we were both right and both wrong. I know he felt helpless, admitting he didn't know how to support me and fearing he might lose me. It broke my heart, yet I struggled to bridge the growing divide between us.
We came perilously close to giving up. Somehow, though, we clung to each other. Gradually, we found our way back. It wasn't easy. We had to relearn how to communicate openly, how to truly support each other. We've seen each other at our lowest and consciously chose to stay. But scars remain. We tread more carefully, acutely aware of the fragility of our bond.
This experience taught us that love alone isn't always enough. It requires effort, patience, and a willingness to forgive—both ourselves and each other.
The turning point came when I acknowledged I needed help. I turned first to my husband, his voice trembling as he reassured me, "I'm here, I love you, and I'm in love with you. We'll get through this." Then my mom and sister, my steadfast "prayer warriors."
Finding the right therapist was a journey in itself. The first didn't click, and the second seemed disinterested. But the third? He understood. He didn't rush to fix me or prescribe quick solutions. Instead, he acknowledged my journey and validated the steps I was taking.
Recovery came in small steps:
What helped most was the unwavering support of loved ones. Our bond provided a foundation during the darkest times. Therapy offered a sanctuary to process emotions, while faith infused hope and resilience. Ultimately, my commitment to myself, my faith, and my family carried me through. On my hardest days, I began noting down things I was grateful for—even if it was simply "I'm still breathing."
Slowly, I started to comprehend my trauma and my child's struggles. It didn't erase the pain, but it lifted the burden of self-blame.
Today isn't perfect. Some days remain challenging. Yet, I'm stronger than I ever imagined. I'm embracing this journey, one day at a time.
If you find yourself in a dark place—whether it's a health scare, a troubled child, depression, or unrelenting panic—I see you. I've been there. There's a path forward, even when it seems obscured.
Don't hesitate to seek help. It's not a sign of weakness but a courageous step toward healing. Find those who will listen without trying to fix you. Be patient with yourself.
And if you have grandchildren or children in your life? Let them in. Their laughter, their simple joys—they hold a healing power beyond words.
I no longer walk in shame. I'm not merely a survivor; I'm a warrior. And you know what? So are you. Keep fighting, keep moving forward. There's hope, even in the darkest of nights.
This isn't the conclusion of your story. It's a challenging chapter. Keep writing, keep living—one day at a time. You've got this. And on the days when you feel you don't? That's okay too. Rest, breathe, and try again tomorrow.
Remember, you're not alone in this journey. We're in this together, stumbling toward healing, finding joy in the smallest victories. And that's more than enough.
Here are some pieces of advice:
1. Lean on Your Support System: Don't hesitate to reach out to family and friends. Sharing your feelings can provide comfort and perspective.
2. Seek Professional Help: A therapist can offer guidance and tools to navigate your emotions and develop coping strategies.
3. Practice Self-Care: Take care of your physical and mental health. Maintain a routine, exercise, eat well, and get enough sleep.
4. Take It One Day at a Time: Focus on getting through each day rather than worrying about the future.
5. Communicate Openly: Honest communication can strengthen relationships and ensure effective support.
6. Find Meaning: Engage in activities that bring fulfillment and help in healing.
7. Be Patient: Healing takes time. Allow yourself to feel and process emotions without judgment.
