So a while ago, I was thinking everything was peachy keen, and it was time to come off my anti-depressant medication. I was feeling much more positive, much more motivated about life, had much more zing.
Of course Murphy's Law dictates that as soon as I started to feel that way, I'd have a little downward spiral.
Someone at Solace said that the journey through suicide survival is a rollercoaster. Its inevitable that what goes up comes down. For a while at least. Considering how numb I was in the first year, I suppose I am, in a way, experiencing the 'first year' rollercoaster. But not so much as gripping the bar with white knuckled fear as gasping at my stomach leaping into my throat...thank goodness.
Therapy has taught me how to stand back and look at what is going on, and what is setting feelings like this off. My older son is in his last year at primary school, and is beginning to prepare for intermediate school. We have enrolment packs and he's been on visits to two prospective schools. He is old enough to take part in the decision making process, and so we have, together, chosen where he will go.
I am also very aware of having clear memories of my own about starting intermediate. As he gets older, those memories of the same stages seem less and less in the distant past.
It occurred to me that I don't have anyone to discuss this big milestone with. Most of my friends either have no children, or they are younger. My brother has no children yet, my sisters-in-law have no children, and my brothers-in-law have much older children or they live far away.
There is nothing specific about M. starting intermediate that worries me, but its simply that its happening that is a trigger. This is the sort of thing I would have just chatted to Mum about over tea on a Sunday afternoon. Just shooting the breeze. Just tapping her memories of what it was like when I (as the oldest child) started intermediate and meshing them with my own. Reminding each other of things we had forgotten from our different perspectives. Maybe even sharing her own experiences of things that happened during her schooling. M. will have to take a bus - I've never bussed to school, but Mum had. That passing on wisdom from a parent to someone who is one now. You are a first time parent for the rest of your life, and this transition from child to pre-teen is just as scary, if not more so, than the transition from toddler to preschooler as they start stepping into the world with growing independence.
My husband already did anger - right after Mum died, he was angry. I put off anger until now. I am angry at her for leaving me alone to face big life events. I am angry at being deserted when I need a wise mother.I am angry that M. can't share his experiences with her either.
The anger is undirected, though. I am not mad at her as such...she was unwell, and not in a position to realise the impact her choice would have on all of us. So my anger just has to dissipate into the great wide open.
I suppose I'm glad I feel it. I can work with something I feel. Its better than being numb.
