Reflections from 2014

I haven't written in a very, very long time so I thought it fitting to take some time this weekend and write for fun. I should, of course, have done this while business was slow (because everyone was buying Christmas presents instead of resumes)...but now is as good a time as any.

Well, for anyone that knows me personally or who follows me on Facebook knows that I had a severe panic and anxiety episode that showed symptoms as early as October 2013, exacerbated right after the holidays in 2013 and stayed really bad until I got linked together with the right care providers and medicines in late January 2014. I don't really remember much of the month prior to that. I spent most of my days trying to sleep or eat. I lost 10lbs during that time.

From there, it was and has been an uphill battle to get back to feeling like myself. I spent most of 2014 being scared of things. Being afraid to eat (which my medicine not only cured, but caused a 30-pound weight gain, which hurts the self-esteem pretty badly). We are, however, in the process of starting to diet and eat better together thanks to some good books from the in-laws. The "we" I am referring to is me and my now-fiance Michael. He spent a good part of 2014 serving as more of a caretaker than a partner and I am happy to say now that he has effectively been able to return to a more "partner-in-crime" capacity. Still, it's been a transition going from being almost wholly dependent on him to learning how to spread my own wings. Sometimes that comes naturally and I almost feel 100% again. Other times, the bad days still rear their ugly heads. Nevertheless, each day is ultimately a little more normal and farther away from what I went through a year ago. Others strive for excitement and worldly adventures. I strive to watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine, eat a cheesesteak, see friends and shop in Dollar tree without having any moments where my confidence in my stability is shaken to its core.

Outside of my major GAD/Panic Disorder and Depression flare-up, it was just a difficult year overall; even the most even-tempered individual would have wigged out a little. My aunt died in late October after suffering for over a decade with numerous health issues. The worst part of that is that we spent most of that decade not talking, for reasons none of my immediate or extended family members recall anymore. When someone dies in an untimely manner (no matter the state of their health), it's hard to grapple with the anger and the resentment over losing someone too soon. It's also been continually difficult, as one of the many left behind, to think of the what-ifs. I wonder if she'd still be here if I visited more, called more, spoke up on her behalf more when she didn't have the strength to in the presence of her (incopmpetent) care providers. I should have been her care provider. I used to be able to swoop in if you knew me two years ago. I lost my helping tools when she needed them the most.  It gets better with the passing of time, but it never really stops hurting when you love someone that much. She was an integral part of m childhood, adolescence and early adulthood and it's been very hard to go on in the world knowing that she isn't co-existing here with me. Plus, my mom lost her great-cousin Al and he was a pretty steady fixture in my childhood and a great man.

My parents also lost two of their three pets this year, each long before they should have died. One was due to an accident (being hit by a car) and the other suffered from epilepsy for most of her life and suffered from a stroke or some other form of trauma before the vet decided it was best for her to be laid to rest.  I am thankful and humbled by the fact that both of our own pets have been doing well health-wise. But I've noticed, both with me and those close in age to me that I talk to, that the older we get, the more we're aware of mortality in general. When my friends and I were in college, we all thought we were invincible.

Though I lost a lot of friends and acquaintances to death (and saw them lose family members, too)...I never really thought about when I would have to deal with that and how I would cope. Then once it started to happen, I went the complete opposite way and I live in fear of losing everything. But I lost my job and survived. I found a gig that perfectly complements my skill set and my current situation. Had this whole messy breakdown not happened, I would still be working in settings that made me feel uncomfortable, underpaid and in some cases emotionally abused. Life is too short and no one deserves that. I  believe that one should feel comfortable and happy in a job. It was a happy accident  that I finally found a writing job that allows me to use the skills I gleaned from both degrees I earned.

Sometimes loss doesn't mean death in the literal sense-I logically know I can't control when people do and don't die. But this year, I did lose or grow distant from a small unrelated group of longtime friends when I got sick. It's unexpected when the people you believe to be most compassionate and supportive suddenly become unavailable or overly self-absorbed during the one time you need them...after all the times you've been their rock.

And in turn, you find compassion and healing from folks you haven't talked to in years, but affected enough that they decided to reach out to offer words of love and encouragement. The friends piece has been a great lesson in setting boundaries. I take the time to care for and nurture those that do the same. Even if my health or schedule doesn't allow me to take road trips or send extravagant presents...I still make an effort. It's been a lonely year and I finally realized that in order to stop being lonely, I have to let love in. And let go of those that don't love me. That process doesn't have to be negative. Sometimes, relationships just need a breather or room to grow. And in that time, I choose to favor nurturing and fruitful relationships in place of the ones that drain me.

Still a work in progress...still hanging on. -L

Aunt Roe

This past week has been one for the books. My Aunt Roseanne was admitted to the hospital the week before last for complications associated with her diabetes/other health issues. She went home the following Monday (this past Monday) and set up a wellness plan moving forward that included a new diet, occupational therapy and physical therapy, along with her home health care. To provide some background, she had been dealing with heart issues and diabetes for the past decade or so and her health had deteriorated slowly over the course of the past 10 years.

One thing I admittedly struggle with is how hard it was to watch my aunt suffer in the year since we reconnected. I recently reestablished a relationship with my aunt after my immediate family not speaking with our extended family for some time (for reasons none of us can remember anymore). It made me anxious to visit her because it was hard to see her in physical and emotional agony. In the course of the years we hadn't talked, she lost her ability to drive and walk. Also, she lost a major support source in the form of her romantic partner. After not seeing her for over a decade, it also dawned on me upon first gaze that she's aged to look very much like my long-deceased and still-beloved "Nanny." All of this fear and anxiety (notice a common theme on my blog here?) kept me from seeing her more than I would have under normal, "old me" circumstances. But I was still thankful for what we had this past year. It took us too long to get to that point. It should have happened years ago but I'm thankful that it even happened at all.

Roe often confessed that she felt she was following in her mother's footsteps and didn't want to die too soon before her time, but she struggled to find that spark that one needs to go on and fight the good fight. I had the pleasure of visiting her in December before Christmas and again in the Spring before Easter. I emailed and called frequently in between, and she did the same in return. She was legitimately the only person in my circle who understood how it felt to be housebound (her situation due to disability, mine due to my aforementioned breakdown and recovery from anxiety and panic disorders). We talked, laughed and cried a lot. And I tried to say all the things I had in my pep talk arsenal to inspire her and give her a reason for continuing, even stating that I wanted her to be there to meet my future children-kiddos that I'm still not even sure I'll have. I reminded her of her family and friend-based support network and that she was never alone, even if that was often the case physically.

The last time we talked was this past Wednesday night right before the newest episode of SVU. All we did was talk, laugh and smile. She was unusually optimistic and happy. I felt like maybe all of her family's kind words and encouragement/tough love finally seeped through and made a change. It never occurred to me that her optimism could be something ominous or a calm before the storm. Less than 24 hours after my aunt told me how good she felt and how she was looking forward to her physical therapy and baking cookies this Christmas after a long hiatus from her normal annual baking duties, I found out that she died.

On Thursday, she fell down in her house while under the care of her home nurse and physical therapist. She was later pronounced dead at a local hospital, 30 minutes from my apartment and 12ish hours after I talked with her. About how Mike and I had plans to bring her homemade fried rice after moving into our house the end of the month; she adhered to a low-potassium diet and this delicacy was surprisingly in adherence to her food restrictions. And we'd even planned to bring our dog to visit , since animals are the best therapy.

We had plans. She set goals for herself and I set some of my own to hold up my end of the deal. We both worked this year to try and get well again in our own ways. Both of our plans involved one another. I've obsessed over what reason there could be behind why she survived numerous heart attacks and hospital visits, but died at home as she took her first step to finally getting better in both body and spirit. There is no logic, I've come to find. It's not ours to understand and I still don't get it.

To say that she was special and an integral part of my formative years is an understatement. She took me on shopping trips, kept me company during my brother's little league games, took me to get my driver's license when I was 17 and scared to drive my parents' stick-shift cars, and even sat with me when I had kidney stones in my freshman year of college and was stuck in the hospital for eight hours. Little did I know that 12 years later, she'd die in the same hospital system where she sat with me and helped me go through the agony of stones, which pale in comparison to the internal battle she dealt with each day to survive and go on.

This year has been one of the most challenging and vulnerable ones of my life. I have never felt so raw, afraid, excited, sad, aware...you name it. Mt dear aunt helped me survive. She was one of the many reasons I chose to keep going on during times when I didn't know if it was worth the trouble -depression is a tricky bastard like that, but it's getting better. Grief  hurts. I know it gets better with time, but it hurts like hell. And even more so when you're an adult and you have a keener understanding of death and mortality.

Because of my improving but ongoing social phobias, I am remembering her in my own way in my own home because I know I won't make it through the formal services that have been arranged in her honor. But I know that for this past year, I was there as much as I could be. And she gave as much of herself as she could in return. I will always love her and always miss her.

I will always be jealous of the angels...rest in peace Aunt Roseanne