Mental Health

After publishing my last blog post ‘Liberated, Or Lonely?’ on July 27th, my husband and I decided to separate. We decided to sell our house and go our separate ways. We talked about staying separated, but not getting an official divorce…yet. We thought we would wait one year and re-evaluate. Then we could decide if we wanted to reconcile, or divorce. We even met with a realtor to decide what, if anything we would upgrade or fix before selling, and get an idea of what to expect financially. We began discussing how we would split things up and who would take what.

Then the unimaginable happened. I was at work, August 7th, a typical Tuesday morning. I received a phone call from out-of-state. I knew my life was changing course, but I had no idea how drastically it was about to be overturned. I have started a hundred posts since that day, but I haven’t been able to finish a single one. My thoughts, feelings, emotions are all over the place. One unexpected tragedy has left me reeling, like nothing ever has before. I thought I would take a break from blogging. A week, a month, who knows. But along the way, I have often felt like I should be sharing the things I am going through as I go. Keep pushing, keep sharing. There are others out there who are living this same nightmare. Others are not living it right now, but may in the future. Others may have experienced the same loss and have been trying for years to wrap their heads around it. Maybe sharing my journey will help one of them.

I don’t want to wait until this is all over and I can package it all nice and pretty to continue writing. BECAUSE IT WILL NEVER BE OVER. AND IT WILL NEVER BE PRETTY.

So, Flower In The Mud has a new page. Mental Health. These will not be scheduled posts. There will be no proof reading or heavy editing here. For those of you who have read my previous posts, get ready. Shit’s about to get real. I guess those were my practice pieces. God does work in mysterious ways.

On August 6th 2018, my Mom committed suicide. She hung herself in her bedroom, in the house she shared with her brother, my Uncle. She is gone forever and there is nothing anyone can say or do to make it not so, to make it hurt less, to bring comfort to anyone impacted by her loss. I don’t know how to process this, or heal, or even move forward. But I will do it. What choice do I have? I am going to share with you along the way, because if I wait, the rawness will be gone, the realness of my pain and intimate experience will fade and I wonder if I will have anything left. I am determined to share with anyone who will listen in hopes some of this can be used for good.  Maybe it will reach the right person, at just the right time.

Expect my future posts on the Mental Health page to be more frequent and less organized, more like an ongoing journal of sorts. Raw, not sugar-coated. Feelings, not fact’s. Mine, unapologetically.

I know there will be people who will read them, looking for more reasons to hate and blame me, but that is their problem, not mine. I cannot, and more importantly, I WILL NOT spend a moment more of my time and energy trying to change anyone’s mind about me, my life, and my TRUTH. This blog is not for them, it is for me, and you. Everything you read here will be true, even when I seem to contradict myself. I am sure as I go through the process of grief that my truth will change, morph, adapt. That doesn’t make anything else I have written a lie, it makes it more real. Because we are all ever-changing.

At least until our last breath.