This morning my feelings have been more or less congruent with the rainstorms we've had here the past few days. Ellie picked up on this, asking "Mom, why are you sad?" "Ummmm, because I don't feel happy." (Dumb answer, I know.) "Why don't you feel happy, Mom? You miss Daddy?" "Yeah, Ellie, I miss Daddy. And I miss Grandma and Grandpa, and Aunt Christie and Uncle Joe, and Aunt Mish (and I recited all the family members and friends) and I miss being able to handle stress and being able to keep the house clean and seeing sunshine and being able to buy groceries without Daddy's help and not stressing when we have people over and I miss looking forward to every day and I miss caring about people and things and enjoying playing with you and Didi and I miss --" "Mom, what are you talking about?"
"Good question, Ellie." I'm worried that going back to the US isn't going to make me feel happy and able to handle stress. I'm even worried that a good old anti-depressant won't do the trick. My life is different now than it was before Didi--perhaps I'll never be that old perky me again. I can't thank my family enough, though, for their encouragement and reassuring insights. (Indeed few families understand as much about depression as mine.) Despite the heaviness hanging over my heart, I know deep down inside that there's hope for recovery. I don't always believe in it, but the fact that those who love me do gives me the strength to persevere.
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