My dogs all followed me to bed tonight. Usually it’s just my 2 smaller, younger dogs, who come to bed with me. But tonight, they all 4 pawed into my room. They can sense it; dogs are smart. They know I am hurting more than “normal”.
Depression is real. It strikes when it wants and for me, it’s always lurking. Over the years, 16 years living with depression, I’ve learned to cope I suppose, sometimes with meds, other times without.
PTSD is another world I’ve entered strongly since losing Payton. It’s a world I wish I could leave. PTSD is hard to understand unless you’ve experienced it. I experience it every couple of weeks or so for a week or more at a time. It affects me more so at night, but many times during the day as well. Many nights I lie my head down and the moments rush back to me. The night before and the day he passed hits me like 5 tons of bricks. I relive the moments as if they are happening NOW, and the pain is just as stabbing as they were that night. I told him “goodnight” and that I loved him very much. I gave him a kiss, but he was already sleeping so he didn’t say it back, and he didn’t hear me tell him. I know he loved me. He told me at least 2,555 times before. He had asked me earlier in the night when I was going to put his oils on his feet as I did every night after he was diagnosed. I told him I would, but I forgot. I barely slept that night . He woke up around 2:30am wanting a drink. He choked on it because the tumor had taken his ability to swallow. I replay him saying “I tried” in my mind over and over and over again. Again, I feel the same pain I felt that night, all over again. I relive the day he passed OVER and OVER and OVER, and the pain I feel is just like it is happening right now in the moment. I try to think of moments where he was healthy, and I feel guilt. I tell myself things that I know are untrue, but I don’t know how to stop thinking these things. Paranoia is a big part of who I have become since losing Payton. I am paranoid something could happen to another of our kids. I think everyone worries about their children, but this is different. This is having your heart drop everytime one of them asks to do something. All of these “crazy” thoughts come to mind of what “could” happen but probably won’t. I feel like I’m in a constant battle with my mind. I avoid certain songs, TV shows, and activities that take me back to the “Payton days”. I cannot make myself go there. PTSD for me does come and go. I can go a week, sometimes more, without having flashbacks, but when it comes it definitely puts me in a very dark place that I do not want to be in. Writing does seem to help, so thank you to anyone who takes the time to read and thank you for humbling yourself, as I know some of my writings are probably not easy to read.