We go through life sometimes in a daze; not even thinking about the world around us. Then we have moments. Moments that catch us by surprise. Moments we never saw coming. Then, we look back and realize that those moments are the things that shape, and change us for good. I began a journey of moments six months ago that (little did I know) would change me, and my family forever.
My Mom is the most patient woman alive. She is fearless, strong, loving, and fierce. She is my rock, my encourager, my supporter and much more. The day that we found out her “cold” was not just a cold, we were devastated. I lost apart of my mom that day. A piece of her I don’t think I will ever see again.
My Mom had been struggling with the flu, but, had gone deaf in one ear, which concerned us. She went on multiple antibiotics, steroids, and general prescriptions. We went and saw more than three specialists in a matter of a month. No doctor had the answers we wanted. None knew what was wrong.
All the while, I see my Mom becoming very discouraged. I saw her slipping, becoming less and less like herself. It came to the point where she didn’t get out of bed. She had given up on fighting. She had lost faith and hope in herself. She fell into a very dark hole, and it was like no one could get her out. She had blockaded herself in this box, pushing everyone besides herself out. I watched my own Mom slowly become a stranger I didn’t even recognize.
My Mother and I have never had a very good relationship. We fight a lot, and almost never agree on anything. Although we have had a lot of difficulty in connecting, I have always depended on her, sought her approval, and loved her endlessly. Sometimes we would go days not even talking, caught up in the chaos of life. But, she has never stopped being my Mom.
During this time of her sickness, I saw her captivated in this darkness. Little does she know, is that I know exactly what she is going through. I knew her thoughts, I knew her struggle, I knew the darkness well.
I have traveled that road of depression too, Mom.
I know the crippling fear of anxiety running through your veins, Mom.
I know you’re tired, Mom.
I still see you falling, Mom.
You can get through this, Mom.
Part of having those moments in life is learning to accept them; and most importantly taking, and running with them. I have accepted that my Mom has depression. I also have accepted that I do too. We are walking this journey together. We are learning, and growing, together. And I, cannot wait to experience that moment when I can finally say that we conquered every struggle we faced. We will make it.