I have just wrapped up what was, without a doubt, the most difficult school year of my life.
Nine days after losing my mom, I started a new job. And that job split me between two new schools. I had so many people to get to know, including my fellow instructional coaches, while learning a completely new role. I had two new bosses at central office and two new principals to work with. I had two new school cultures to learn and two full staffs of teachers to build trust and relationships with.
I'd love to say everything fell perfectly into place, but that would be a lie. I experienced extreme loneliness and I can't recall ever feeling more like an outsider in all my life. I had left behind a school I loved, friends and colleagues I had known for years, and a community that had been a huge part of my life. I never even really got to say goodbye to any of that because I wasn't offered the coaching position until the beginning of July. I had closed out last school year under the assumption I'd be back in August.
The excitement I felt at the beginning of last July had turned to dread by the end of July when I was drowning in grief, overwhelmed by the management of everything following my mom's death, and fearful of the many unknowns looming in front of me.
I basically did the only thing I could do: take things one day at a time. When I had a challenging day - and there were countless challenging days - I tried to let it go and start over the next morning. This might sound brave or inspiring, but it certainly didn't feel that way. I was simply in survival mode.
This went on for a long time.
Months and months of darkness.
I didn't even know who I was. I had to make big decisions but was overwhelmed with thinking about what to take to school for lunch that day. I'm a highly organized person and yet it seemed like everything was out of control, which left me feeling constantly disoriented. I had to go to work every day and act like everything was fine because no one at either of my two new schools really knew what was going on in my life.
I thought I was going crazy. I spoke to my doctor on several occasions about the depression, anxiety, and insomnia I was dealing with.
We discussed different medications to treat the symptoms, but ultimately I opted against taking anything because I knew deep down this was something I had to experience - I didn't want to dull my feelings or sleep away the pain, no matter how difficult the journey might be. That's not to say I'm against medication because I know how beneficial it can be; I just made an informed decision that was best for ME and I support everyone's choices when they do the same for themselves. I might have made a different choice if I didn't have the support I was and am so lucky to have.
What I came to realize is that everything I'd been feeling is perfectly normal.
I wasn't crazy.
First of all, I was dealing with utter and complete exhaustion. If you have never been a caregiver, you may not understand the all-consuming nature of this work - how thoroughly exhausted I was physically, emotionally, and mentally. Five years of trying to do everything I could for her, but always feeling like I was falling short took an enormous toll on me - and I say that while acknowledging how fortunate I was to have so much support from C, my two brothers, and my two sisters-in-law.
Secondly, I was thoroughly consumed by grief. How could I not be after losing the most influential person in my life? And I'm not new to grief by any stretch of the imagination. If you've read some of my posts over the years, you know how deeply I have been affected by loss. This time, though, absolutely gutted me. This was exacerbated by the tornado of emotions - relief that she wasn't suffering any longer, heartache that I would have to live the rest of my days without her, guilt about what more I could have done for her.
I took the 2018-2019 school year off to move her into our house and care for her full-time. Looking back, despite our hopes, that was really the beginning of the end, as her health overall declined from that point forward. Some days were better than others, of course, and she had stretches where things were kind of stable, but after the summer of 2018, we all knew we were on borrowed time with her.
And as such, little else mattered to me other than my mom. I chose her. Time after time. I cancelled trips, I turned down social invitations, I gave up pretty much anything if it got in the way of something she needed. I'm sharing this not because I want anyone to think I'm a martyr or some kind of amazing daughter because there are so many times when I could have been kinder or more patient. I just want to try and capture what the last several years were like. She came first and the reality is that sometimes came with a cost. Those choices were sometimes to the detriment my health and happiness. But they had to be made and I would make them again in a heartbeat for her.
She got very sick at the same time that I was supposed to start writing my dissertation in 2018 when I ended up taking a year off of work to care for her. Everything was put on the back burner in terms of my Ph.D. because she became my top priority. As her health grew worse and her needs increased, my time grew even more limited and I was worn down from the day-to-day struggles.
I suspected I would run out of time before I finished my Ph.D. but always held on to a sliver of hope that I would be able to complete it. When I lost my mom, I emailed my dissertation chairperson to thank her for all of her support and we decided I would apply for an extension, which would give me until spring of 2024 to graduate.
Looking back, I honestly don't know what I was thinking when I applied for that extension last August. Knowing what I know now, understanding what I've gone through over the past eleven months, there was absolutely no way I would have been able to write a dissertation. Clearly I was delusional.
My committee chairperson has been the most wonderful and supportive mentor to me through these challenging years. She is someone I respect immensely, not only for her intellect and professional work, but also for her kindness and encouragement. Disappointing her by not finishing my Ph.D. certainly weighs on me.
But do you know who I haven't disappointed? Myself. If the opportunity ever presents itself to resume and complete my Ph.D., I would welcome it with open arms. But if not, I will be fine.
I can't be disappointed in myself for choosing my mom over a degree. And I certainly can't be disappointed in myself for choosing my mental health and my well-being over a degree.
I have spent the past eleven months healing.
Some days, that meant sitting alone doing nothing. Some days that meant being with friends. Some days that meant being with family. And often times, that meant traveling with C, which is when I feel most normal and most able to let the joy in. Others may not have understood those monthly trips to WDW, but having them to look forward to kept me going on the very hard days.
Will I ever "get over" losing my mom? Absolutely not. Her absence will NOT EVER be something I am accustomed to.
But I'm proud to say that I firmly believe I'm on the other side of the darkness now.
Do I still cry about her death? Yes. Frequently. I want call her and talk to her and get her advice every single day. But recalling memories also brings joy and laughter now, which wasn't the case even a few months ago.
And so as I put the 2023-2024 school year behind me and look forward, I am optimistic that there will continue to be more good days than bad. I count my lucky stars for all of the people in my life who have stood by my side, not only for the past eleven months, but through the very difficult five years that preceded my mom's death.
Obviously C has been amazing. He always is. He hugged me, sat in silence with me, made me a million cups of coffee, planned all of our trips, and reassured me each day that things would get better. I say it all the time, but I truly don't know what I would do without him. Whatever I needed, he said it, did it, got it, planned it, fixed it, and he has managed a lot of the legal components in terms of navigating my mom's estate - what appointments need to be made, what forms needs to filled out and filed, what signatures need to go where. These are all profound acts of love.
I also leaned so heavily on my best friend this year and her support was nothing short of life-saving. She checked in on me constantly, she indulged my lengthy text rants about life, she validated my feelings when I didn't understand them myself, and she encouraged me to do little things in my mom's honor (like the Mickey bars she brought to my house for Mother's Day, which I shared in my last post). On our last day of work last week, she sent me a text telling me she was proud of me for making it through such a challenging year, which made me cry because she had a front row seat to everything and loved me when I was beyond unlovable this past year. She is a rare and precious gem in my life.
On to summer break...time to create some new core memories!
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I saw this a few weeks ago and
it really captures what I'm feeling |
Happy Tails to you!
