Depression...
...so this is how it's going to be, right? How can I have my faith in You restored to what it used to be, when I'm forced to watch this charade going on in my own house? How can this happen to Your people...how can this happen to someone whose life got turned around by accepting You...and now she has nothing? I'm struggling to understand this, and I'm not finding any help. Am I the only person who thinks this deeply on things? Am I alone in this?
I watched her today, struggling to open a container, trying to remember what kind of pizza she likes...stupid little everyday tasks that most people wouldn't give a second thought to. She looks puzzled most of the time. I wonder if she even knows who I am anymore. Probably not.
It's so easy to start joking around, pretending like everything is okay when in all actuality, it isn't. It's so far from okay that it makes me sick to think about it. There are little notes all around the kitchen. "Press this button for X, Y, or Z." "Denise is sleeping. She will be awake at the following time:" "Here are snacks." At least she can still read, right?
I go back to Kent tomorrow...I wonder if I will ever see her again. Next time, she won't remember me. I'll be nothing to her; nothing. Just like her daughter will be...her own child will mean nothing to her. Her sons will mean nothing. Everything will be a shade of gray against a black and white background that makes no sense to her whatsoever. Shadows will come and go...there will be good days, days with meaning. But it will be a disastrous roller coaster ride, where the ups and downs are worse than any man could ever build.
I'm scared, and I don't know why. I don't know what to do, how to act. I don't know what to say. "Thanks for taking care of me when I was little...you won't remember me next time I see you"? I see her shuffle across the kitchen floor, unsure of how to even walk like a normal person...and I think about all of those walks we used to take around her trailer park, trying to catch lightning bugs. Watching Mary Tyler Moore and Jay Leno...she used to tell me stories about her childhood, growing up in the Depression in Cleveland. I hope I remember these things, because they are the only things that give meaning to a person's life. We are here...we exist...and we die. And all we have to prove this is evidence that comes in the form of pictures or stories...without those, who would even know that we existed?
I watched one grandparent die from cancer in a painful manner. I watched one isolate himself until they just found his body one day. And now I'm watching this one forget everything about herself, and regress into some form of childhood that only exists in hell.
My boyfriend told me I need to be a strong person. I don't even know where to look inside myself for the kind of strength I will need for this...I cannot do this alone...
Why is this happening? How am I supposed to have faith in You when I don't know where You are? How do I even begin to find You again...I'm so lost...
I watched her today, struggling to open a container, trying to remember what kind of pizza she likes...stupid little everyday tasks that most people wouldn't give a second thought to. She looks puzzled most of the time. I wonder if she even knows who I am anymore. Probably not.
It's so easy to start joking around, pretending like everything is okay when in all actuality, it isn't. It's so far from okay that it makes me sick to think about it. There are little notes all around the kitchen. "Press this button for X, Y, or Z." "Denise is sleeping. She will be awake at the following time:" "Here are snacks." At least she can still read, right?
I go back to Kent tomorrow...I wonder if I will ever see her again. Next time, she won't remember me. I'll be nothing to her; nothing. Just like her daughter will be...her own child will mean nothing to her. Her sons will mean nothing. Everything will be a shade of gray against a black and white background that makes no sense to her whatsoever. Shadows will come and go...there will be good days, days with meaning. But it will be a disastrous roller coaster ride, where the ups and downs are worse than any man could ever build.
I'm scared, and I don't know why. I don't know what to do, how to act. I don't know what to say. "Thanks for taking care of me when I was little...you won't remember me next time I see you"? I see her shuffle across the kitchen floor, unsure of how to even walk like a normal person...and I think about all of those walks we used to take around her trailer park, trying to catch lightning bugs. Watching Mary Tyler Moore and Jay Leno...she used to tell me stories about her childhood, growing up in the Depression in Cleveland. I hope I remember these things, because they are the only things that give meaning to a person's life. We are here...we exist...and we die. And all we have to prove this is evidence that comes in the form of pictures or stories...without those, who would even know that we existed?
I watched one grandparent die from cancer in a painful manner. I watched one isolate himself until they just found his body one day. And now I'm watching this one forget everything about herself, and regress into some form of childhood that only exists in hell.
My boyfriend told me I need to be a strong person. I don't even know where to look inside myself for the kind of strength I will need for this...I cannot do this alone...
Why is this happening? How am I supposed to have faith in You when I don't know where You are? How do I even begin to find You again...I'm so lost...
posted by Erin Nicole @ 10:47 PM
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