Tribute To The Lost Decade
How i survived a turbulent decade.
The first year after my father died, I was dreaming of him almost every day, from the very first few days immediately after his passing. I still cannot get passed the trauma of seeing him lying in that medical unit room at the airport, after he suddenly dropped on the floor as he was coming out with his luggage, my sister and I waiting for him outside.
I still can’t get passed the trauma of seeing him lying on the bed, covered from head to toe. Then, I was immediately transported to another realm, like I was dreaming, having a nightmare. This cannot be happening. My worst nightmare. Instantly, I felt something overwhelming at the center of my chest. My heart was crushed. Nothing ever prepares you for this moment. All you can think of is, not now, no, I am still not ready for this. Truth is, you are never ready or ever will be.
So the first year after his passing, he came almost every day in my dreams. Looking back, I think that, he was taken by surprise just as much as we were and felt he needed to be with us a little longer, through our dreams. This morning I came to realize he wanted to be with us and us be with him for some time and that is why I was dreaming of him every day. One time I even dreamt he was lying in bed telling me what happened after he died. That ‘they’ gave him a shower for two hours. He then fell asleep peacefully. This was truly symbolic for me in the life after death experience recalled by someone who went to the other side.
In the second year, I dreamt less and less of him, representing the fact that he was more ready to go and we were more ready to accept his disappearance. Last night I had an intense dream of me pouring my tears in sadness over his passing. I cried, and cried, and cried.
Truth is, I have been missing him terribly and voicing it out to him. Which explains the dream. I look back and don’t know how the two and a half years since his death passed. In fact, I still look back over the last ten years or so, and wonder how they passed. They didn’t call 2012 the end of the world for nothing.
The country was going through a turmoil, so was my life. I was facing internal and external struggles. Everything fell out of balance. Not the kind that brought back things in order but more the kind that mimicked an ongoing war. Nothing came out of the ashes or the caterpillar (okay enough analogy). Just utter and complete destruction.
The 2010s certainly felt like the darkest post-apocalyptic times ever. At least for me. At least as far as my own awareness and consciousness are concerned. Leading up to my father’s death, these were very trying times for me. Which I think I royally flunked even though I am still alive.
I have always been intense in my feelings. A little depressed since puberty. Maybe this intensity was prepping me for what’s to come. An avalanche of a dark cloud presiding over my life no matter what I did or tried to do. I remember coming across a depiction of depression as a dark cloud moving with you over your head. You cannot just shake it, drink it, or sleep it off.
I would like to think the severe life transformations preceded the depression not the other way around. Not as everyone labelled me. I had strong reasons to constantly feel this darkness and deeply transformative life situation. The hardest part was how everyone saw me and how this further made everything much worse. I was criticized, bullied, shamed, attacked. Being a true cranky crab hiding in my shell, this was too much for me. I felt raped. To say the least.
I knocked most doors, healers, psychologists, therapists, tarot readers. I started reading in the stars, the metaphysical, the supernatural. Looking for an explanation to what I was going through. I am grateful for the amount of literature and readings I came across, providing education and some relief at times. Entertainment and distraction as well. Like someone was talking to me. I read myself to sleep every night. I learned to love my solitude and actually crave it.
However, I cannot say I am grateful for these trying times. I lost a lot. A lot was lost. Many relationships were destroyed. My home. My life. My own will. My path is not clearer. The only thing I can say I came out with through these tough 10 years is I am able to joke about myself. Having no shame in exposing myself. My ego, crushed. Maybe that was the whole purpose.
How I got out of it? Well I spent the years praying. In silence. In the end, God – and an antidepressant – took me by the hand.
I still hide. Put on airplane mode when I need to. Stay in and take care of my shell. And there is nothing wrong with that. Some people are more fragile than others and cannot cope. I am one of them.
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