Depression is a foul thing.

The past few months have been incredibly difficult. Between trying to maintain a life and job, I feel like I've been through a hurricane. When my Grandpa really started to get sick at the end of September, things became much more difficult. I couldn't concentrate on work, I was neglecting my friends, neglecting my husband... All I could feel was guilt for not doing more...and stress from all my other obligations. Jiu-jitsu seemed to be the only thing that could help me relax...but then my wrist began to be so painful that I had to take a break. My Grandpa's health only got worse, my obligations and duties increased, and now I had no outlet for my stress. I spent 4 (or was it 5?) nights sleeping on the floor at the foot of my Grandpa's hospital bed set up in the family living room, while my Dad slept on the couch. I had to watch my Grandma go through the most difficult event in her life. I had to watch my Grandpa let go of his hold on life in the most dignified and beautiful way that I can imagine. My Grandpa died on November 13, 2008 at 1:20 p.m. I will always remember that because right before I got the news, while I was on a shift for work, I received a text message from Dennis that reminded me how lucky I am to have the friends I have. I was almost relieved when my Grandpa died, I know he was miserable, having his life taken from him, being taken away from his wife. But now, I'm just beginning to come out of the haze...and I'm realizing that I have a lot of pieces to pick up. My Grandpa's death has made me realize that I have a lot of other things that I need to do. Giving attention to the other side of my family, reminding my friends that I still exist and that I love them, paying more attention to Chris. I'm still struggling to deal with my Grandpa's death. I haven't been able to fully process everything...I learned so many things in these last months. I wouldn't say I'm sad that my Grandpa died...I'm certainly sad that he is no longer here, but I also know that he had no regrets in life, and that he was able to fulfill his personal legend. I know he rests in peace. In a way, I wish I were still sleeping on that floor at the foot of his bed...I would have had more time to figure things out, really focus on what I was learning...what he was trying to teach me in the ways that he could. I would give anything for a clue about how to help my Grandma, or to have more patience in my life. More time to figure out if I'm truly happy in my life...am I making progress towards my own goals? My own personal deep down goals? Most of the time I feel fulfilled, but then there are the times, like right now, where I feel like I'm missing something...like I'm wasting time. Except I feel no pull. There is no voice nudging me. I am numb. And it is Christmas Eve. I am happy and sad and angry and hopeless all at the same time.