My Cup Overflows Part 3
I remember returning to school after my father transitioned and thinking, “my dad is dead and no one cares. Life around me went on as usual and it seemed as though I became invisible. I was transferred to a new school; one I could walk to since my father was no longer alive to take me. You see, as stated in my previous blogs, Dad took me to school and picked me up daily.
The students in my new class were unfriendly to say the least and I recall one young man in particular spearheading bulling campaigns against me. Under these new circumstances, I not only felt lost, but afraid as well. My emotions ricocheted inside me like a ball in an old fashioned pinball machine; never really knowing where to come to a rest. In essence, I didn’t know how or what to feel. In hindsight, it was apparent, I wasn’t the only one feeling unhinged. My father had many friends and family feeling the impact of his death as deeply as I did.
My mother did an amazing job in the midst of her own trauma and pulled us together as a family. She took me to counseling so that I had a non biased person to talk with. She became an active part of my school’s PTA and upped her participation in my life. Essentially, Mom did her best to become mother and father to us. Despite my mother’s best efforts, my wounds from losing my dad, my hero were too deep. I succumbed to the negativity around me that came from the outside my home. I was at that age where the opinions of others carry more weight than those of our family.
As a result of my vulnerable state I began a slow decent into the abyss of depression. The ironic thing is, I had no realization, I was depressed. I made a series of decisions over the course of my young adult and adult life that at times cost me dearly, all driven by melancholia. All the while I was lost in the chasm of sadness, it often seemed I was alone. But God!
Savannah J, providing a place of tranquility away from the stress of life.
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