...Five years later

Disclosure: this post is probably my longest one. It is important to my story, so please bare with me. If you are going to read it, read through the post completely. Thanks. 

In the five years since I was diagnosed with depression, life happened. I was fired from that job at the youth home, started working at the hospital as a medical clerk, completed a Master's degree, and started my career in Higher Education. Yep, a lot happened in five years, including my struggle with depression. I was off and on the meds for a few years, then made the decision to go completely off of them. I did not want to live on anti-depressants for the rest of my life. 

I struggled through graduate school with my depression. There were days the anxiety and pain of depression made me want to quit school and crawl under a rock. However, I did not quit. I had family and friends who supported me through this all. (Side note: My dad didn't know about all that I was going through. To this day, I find it easier to share with friends or strangers [you], than tell him. That's another story for another day). 

Fast forward to the summer of 2012, my job had been cut at the community college where I worked. So, in August of 2012, I found myself once again going through a depressive episode, brought on by my circumstances. I was going to be fine...I would get another job, and everything would be okay. Then, three weeks later, I received a call that my grandmother, Meme, was being rushed to St. Francis in Monroe. She had a stroke at an appointment earlier in the day. I was living four hours away, so I knew there was nothing I could do immediately. I packed, but what was I packing for...a few days stay or a funeral. I packed for a funeral. As morbid as that was, Meme had been on dialysis for 3 or 4 years at that time, and had a slew of other health problems. I told myself, 'I'm packing so I can stay longer if I need to.' I drove to Monroe from Texarkana, only to be greeted by family with that look. The only look you give when you know this is it, the end of the road. Meme wouldn't recover, not this time. By 10 pm on September 12, 2012, Meme had been pronounced dead. Three days later, we gathered as family and friends to say goodbye. 

I did not go back to Texarkana immediately. I stayed at my dad's for a few days to celebrate his birthday, then it was back to reality. My reality was this...I had no job and my grandmother had just died. Yeah, I was not looking forward to spending time by myself. 

I returned to Texarkana only to realize, I had to leave my 'freedom' of living by myself and return home to live with my dad. With no other choice, by mid October 2012, I was living back at home in Arkansas. I knew things would be hard, I was grieving for two major losses in my life. Then, two weeks after I moved home, my dog, Peaches was hit. She died too. I couldn't believe it, another death, another loss. 

I cried more that weekend than I did the night Meme died. I cried because I was facing another loss. I cried because I couldn't take handle the stress of losing something else in my life. At this point, I felt like Job ... yes, Job from the Bible. He lost everything and everyone he loved. I remember the moment I finally got out of bed that weekend, Daddy didn't know what to say or do. I wasn't up for long, before I headed back to bed. 

This started what I would call a major milestone in my life.

For the first time, I thought about committing suicide.