When I entered graduate school a few years back I was employed full-time at the university and began by taking one course a term. I knew going into the program that with family and outside work obligations the pace of my progress in the masters program would be s l o w. Just didn't know how slowly it would go.
Health setbacks required a shift from full-time to part-time employment. I picked up the pace slightly with my schooling however, and continued to progress nicely while pulling good grades. I could do this! Favorable feedback from professors encouraged me in my efforts and it seemed my dreams of working in my chosen field were coming into fruition.
Unfortunately, my health continued to be an issue and I eventually, with support from my dear husband, made the choice to leave my paid position after 10 years of service. It was a heartbreaking decision on one hand but a relief nevertheless. I could use my strength to focus on completing the last year of my masters program.
Ah, life has other plans for us! Just prior to my last week on the job our family suffered terrible losses with the deaths of two family members and two friends. Shaken, I requested no retirement party, and my last day on the job was minus the traditional fanfare.
Coping with losses meant focusing on the health of our precious family unit. We needed to be there for each other. My daughter, in particular, was deeply affected and all my energy naturally shifted to her. We also received devastating news that my mother was diagnosed with a terminal illness-another blow that further drew our attentions away from anything other than caring for each other emotionally and physically. Finally, additional losses and illness-including something that hit my daughter so hard that we almost lost her-seemed to alter all concept of time, meaning and purpose. We were doing all we could at that point to tread water.
There is no knowing why our family faced so much seeming insurmountable loss in such a short time. It just was. And there was no awareness on my part just how much the stress, the grief would affect my ability to cope with everything from the daily rigors of homemaking and childrearing to being a life partner and to being a college student. In my mind I was still up to the task but I had not realized that I was actually living in shock.
In now obvious denial, I thought we should all resume our respective routines as soon as possible which included me heading back to school. I signed up for classes and showed up the first week thinking I would be able to function! My professor kept asking me if I was feeling ok. Guess something didn't look quite right with me. He could see something that I couldn't at the time. Within a week I had dropped classes and was in therapy.
Looking back on that time now I can't believe that I thought I was ok. I was akin to the walking dead. I was terrified of everything, waiting for the next crashing wave to hit. My daughter was still struggling, I had a son deployed in Iraq and I was still going about my responsibilities of making school lunches, cleaning the house, cooking meals, caring for everyone as best I could. But.....when the child and husband were asleep I was up. I developed a need to have the television on for comfort at all times of the day and night and/or was glued to the internet in what was apparently a numbing behavior. Facebook became my sole companion, computer games became my escape. My health continued to be a challenge and during this year of 'schock' I became reclusive and dependent upon anxiety and sleep medications. Because I wasn't moving enough yet eating compulsively I packed on the weight.
It is easy to not feel good about letting myself go over the past year. Because, on the outside, that's what it looks like. But on the inside we all must cope the best way we know how with what life throws our way. Ultimately, forgiveness is the best gift we can give our ourselves. I want to fashion an enormous 'S' for Survivor and emblazen it on the front and back of a shirt and wear it every day to remind myself that I have endured. Sometimes, that's not merely the best we can do-sometimes to endure is the ultimate success.
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