MIA

Wondering where I've been? Me too.

Some people call it being depressed. I should've realized, but I didn't.

After Mom died, I went back to work the next week. Her funeral was Saturday and I went back to work Monday. Looking back, I probably should've taken a little more time off. But I was tired of being in her house. Well, that and family. So I went back to work. My humor came out quite a bit. People would ask me to do stuff and I would tell them. "No thanks, my mom just died." After the first week, I was only allowed to use that excuse once a week. I usually used it to get out of cleaning the coffee mugs. I didn't cry even when patients would ask me about her and they didn't know she had died. Looking back, pretty sure I was still in the shock phase.

Then my house sold and I had to find a house. So that took up some mind time.

Then came Christmas. I thought it was going to be fine since we had a precious new family member. Well, it wasn't. Don't get me wrong. I had a great time with the Teals, but it just wasn't the same. And my poor dad, I think he wanted to cry the whole day. If you knew my mom, Christmas was HER holiday. Every room decorated. Christmas dishes. Even the shelves in the bookcases changed for Christmas. Man, she made it so fun.

(My sister and I joke that she loved Jesus's birthday more than ours. One year she didn't call me to wish me a happy birthday until 9pm. And she mailed my sister a birthday card without signing it.)

Then the snow hit, twice. I was suppose to go to STL the weekend before and spend time with my niece and BFF/SW and her son. But the snow put those plans in the toilet.

Then I got in trouble at work. And pretty much lost it. The ugly cry in front of my boss. I almost quit my job right there. During the ugly crying episodes. You all know, snot and tears mixed. And pretty much looking like a dork. So I took a couple days off work.

I realized I wasn't dealing with the emotions, mostly guilt, about my mom. And they all came out.

It was quite cathartic, big word, eh? And realizing/knowing that I didn't kill my mom because I had given her the pain meds. It's hard to say even on here. But I still feel guilty. Emotionally. But in my mind/medical brain I know I didn't kill her. I know that sounds awful. But I made her so comfortable that I made her stop breathing. I know I didn't do it. It's just coming to terms with that.

Then I'm pretty sure I got mad at God. Didn't pray, didn't open my Bible for months. Crazy, when I could feel His love surrounding me and mom during her illness. I didn't feel like God loved me like I needed to be loved. I needed my mom. Then I heard this song. And God spoke to me and told me, "I love you Sarah, and I love your Mom. That's why I had to take her away from all the pain." And I have to keep reminding myself of that fact, every day.

So that's where I've been. I've been depressed but I'm getting over it. And over myself.

As I told a friend of mine, "Get over it."

And I'm trying . . . .