One Year Later

It has been a year since I lost my mentor and friend, Terry Miller. This post is difficult because it brings up many feelings that I began to divorce over the last few months. Perhaps I should be telling how great a person she was and all the things she did for me in this post, but I instead want to explore those feelings I've had over the last year.

It wasn't until losing her that I realized how truly alone I had become. It's in those dark times you look to the friends and family around you for a bit of light. I in no way want to discredit the efforts some may have made, but overall, there was a sense of loneliness that I had never experienced before. I believe this is because I no longer felt the assurance of someone's support and selfless love. She wasn't gaining anything from me and still wanted a relationship.

Truthfully, some people's lack of plain ole "being there" astonished me. One person questioned my attending the funeral. Others just didn't speak. Some tried and then thought I was too depressing.... Sometimes grief will do that to a person. Because I lived in a place separate from the rest of those who were close to Terry, I felt all of this even more.

Now comes the really deep stuff. The combination of losing Terry and the lack of support, along with a general feeling of no life direction pushed me into a deep depression. When I found out that she had passed I was on my break at my job. I was devastated and literally couldn't pull myself together. I sat by the back door somewhere in between an emotional wreck and dazed. After some time, I mustered up the ability to communicate to my manager that I needed to go. My car tire had a flat that day so my mom had given me a ride to work. While I waited for her to pick me up, I was on the phone in the office with Terry's husband and other friends

That job became a thorn in my side. It somehow was set in my mind as a negative place. And yet I had to be there 35 hours a week. During work, I would be cheerfully talking over headset to customers while crying when no one could see. These feelings piled up. I remember one day in particular. I was walking up the road. There are train tracks. The rail road dinging began and I thought "this is the perfect time". I waited for the train to come, but it didn't. And when it didn't, I cried because I had lost the stomach for life and my opportunity to end it had never shown up. I don't like to admit any of this because it makes me feel weak. But it's the truth.

Shortly after, I disengaged from a harmful environment. I quit that job. I left/was removed from (depends on who/when you ask) my parents' house. And slowly, the worst year ever pushed me to be a more mentally healthy individual.

But where does that leave me today, a year later? Well, it is 1:45am. That glass of wine fit nicely with the emotional storm writing this post inflicted. It's been a year. I'm still here. I value laughter a lot more than I used to. I'm not quite a whole person again. But I'm less fractured than before. Sometimes those feelings kick me in the gut. But I have improved on mastering them. I miss her. I don't think there has been a day that goes by that I haven't thought of her. But I also miss myself. When someone close to you dies, something inside of you does as well. I know that sounds cliche but I can't think of a creative way to communicate it. There's no good way to end a post like this.

I did fail to mention my extreme gratitude to those who financially contributed to me being able to go to the funeral. Also to those who shared their hospitality while I was there. Since I'm saying thanks, also to my Pita Pit family... somehow these people landed in my life at a perfect time. To Val who let me stay with her when I didn't have a home. To Skylah who's goofiness watered my dead garden of laughter. To A... how shall I say this?... for being so self righteous and isolating me...it made a tough decision easier. To PPC, for giving me my space. To Rae for being "that girl" with me. To Seattle for showing me a new world.

And to Terry, for the 7 years of mentoring and relationship. For never giving up on me. For still looking out for me.