Listen Yall: I'm Mad.

About three months ago, when all the noise died down, the silence took over. The darkness penetrated my soul and I succumbed to the depression that had been kept at bay for so long. I wasn’t eating. I couldn’t. I let myself give in to dark things around me and before long I didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror. She was sad. She was dark. She was vacant. She was hollow.

Her eyes had a shadowy overcast and she went through the motions of the day because she was expected to, yet she longed for the darkness and comfort that night brought her. She could hide in her blankets and pillows. She could hide in the dark. She could just sit and not be seen. She didn’t want to be seen, she was numb.

Events that took place during this three month period forced me to seek help or lose my family. I had already lost so much, I didn’t want to lose them too. I took steps to getting medical help and was given a prescription for an antidepressant. Yes, this is more common than you think. People just don’t talk about it because they're afraid of being labeled broken. Aren’t we all broken though? None of us are perfect and those of you who think you are, are full of shit.

I was against medication at first. I didn’t want to be labeled broken or be seen as someone who is weak and incapable. My doctor told me to look at it from this perspective: Instead of it being a crutch for you, think of it as a supplement or a vitamin you take because your body needs help producing the right balance for you to function.

Wow. I was blown away when she said this to me. Now that I have a more level head and can clearly reflect on things, y’all I’m mad.

I’m so mad.

Mad that I had to bury both my parents within seven months of one another. Mad that I had to look my Dad, my person, in the eyes every day since the beginning of November 2020 when he was diagnosed, knowing there was nothing I could do to make it better. I’m mad that my Dad declined as fast as he did. I’m mad that I had to pick him up off the floor time after time. I’m mad that he died in my house. I’m mad I had to make the funeral arrangements by myself. I’m mad that my grandparents had to watch their only child slowly fade away in front of them. I’m mad that my best friend is gone. I’m mad that my son doesn’t have his person anymore, because like my Dad was my person, he was J’s too.

Life’s a bitch. It isn’t fair. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t go how we want it to. It’s unruly. It’s gut wrenching. It doesn’t have favorites. The richest of the rich and poorest of the poor all have problems, although some may feel bigger than others. Losing my dad has been the biggest impediment of my life thus far. It feels huge. It is loud. It’s in my face. Yet I know that somewhere out there someone else has it worse. I guess that is keeping me going however, I’ve allowed myself to not be the strong one all the time. I allow myself to cry when I feel I need to. I allow myself to be mad and miss him when I need to.

Ever since losing my mom, I’ve felt disconnected from that side of the family. Since losing my dad I feel even more disconnected but now from the other side of the family. I was adopted at birth so I’ve always felt somewhat misplaced but now that my two rocks are gone, I just feel suspended in time. Like I’m not moving but everyone and everything else is. I feel isolated, although I have been doing better since getting my medication for depression.

There’s a company who turns your loved one’s ashes into diamonds. Unfortunately it’s incredulously expensive so I will probably never get that opportunity to do that. My heart is really aching today. This time last year, we were happy and having my dad over for dinner. We were going out on the fourwheeler and side-by-side and drinking a beer with my dad. Little did I know that about seven weeks later my world would come crashing down around me.

Y’all, I just want my life to go back to normal. I want my parents back. I don’t want the responsibility, at 26 years old, of taking care of not only my dad but my grandparents afterwards too. Everyone else my age is having babies and enjoying the natural progression of life. I guess that’s the irony though. My life’s progression has never been normal.

Stay True,

Hails