So. Someone reached out today to ask if I was okay because they hadn't seen me around much in the last few weeks and I realized that it is, indeed, November. Daylight Savings has come and gone, peak season starts in a couple weeks at work, my job's management team is doing their best to upset everyone in the building all at the same time while starting as many fires as possible, it gets dark at like 5pm now, and everything is dying except spiders.
The point of this is to say, in short, that yes, I am okay.
In long, it's a bit more complicated than that.
The last few months of the year are particularly rough for me. Varying mental health issues runs in both sides of the family, so I'm already at risk of that; but as the days get shorter and we lose daylight, seasonal affective disorder becomes a very real and obnoxious thing because I effectively rise before the sun, work all day, then return after it gets dark, so I spend very little time in the sun/daylight and my brain hates that. Which, whatever. Happens. I'm used to it to a point, even if it does . But autumn in particular also marks the time frame in which my mom's health declined. After two rounds of covid in late summer that threw off her already minimally helpful chemo treatments, October is when we were told she probably wouldn't make it another 3 months. In November she started having seizures. The week before Thanksgiving, she was hospitalized and doctors effectively told us that we'd hit the tipping point; there was nothing left to do but make her comfortable.
She was gone by the 2nd week of December.
Grief isn't a linear thing. Some days I'm okay. And then some days that loss feels like the ache of a phantom limb. And all I can really do is deal with it, which is about as easy as it sounds when you're dealing with the loss of a parent.
Zero out of ten, absolutely , would not recommend.
But it is being dealt with. Slowly, as much as I can manage. Still though.
But you'll start seeing more around more, I think. I got some closure last week, which has helped some, and healing is a process of baby steps. I'm getting there. Slowly. I'm returning to the things I love without feeling tired or disinterested, which is a win. I'm writing again, socializing outside of work, taking it one day at a time. I'm getting there.
So please continue to bear with me.
Like I said: in short, I'm okay.
Thanks for checking in.
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