It is mid-January, and things are not going well for me.
I mentioned in a Facebook post that my Christmas, birthday, and New Year’s plans did not go as expected. This is what happened.
The week before Christmas, my son had a ski accident. I immediately took time off and flew to be with him, of course, to help him recover. Three days after I arrived, I developed a horrible flu. I had never experienced anything so intense or long-lasting.
We made the best of our time together. We stayed in separate rooms, communicated through text messages, and saw each other through a small crack between doors. We laughed about the absurdity of it all and truly took care of each other, him in terrible pain, and me battling every symptom of the flu.
As a mother, you don’t think twice about what you need to do for your children, and I am no exception. I jumped on a plane, and hours later I was with him. We had a family cruise planned for Christmas, but before I fell sick, we decided it wasn’t a good idea for us to go. Everything that followed only reassured us that it was the right decision. I insisted that my other children still go, even though they didn’t want to. I pushed hard enough that they did. We missed being together as a whole family, but we stayed in constant touch.
My son ordered food. I ordered groceries. Two weeks went by -slowly and painfully- but still filled with humor. We laughed a lot (which hurt both of us), and through it all, I continued to handle my work responsibilities.
Yes, I work through sickness, vacations, and weekends. No, don’t get me wrong—it’s not that I work my regular ten-hour days when I’m away. But there are things that need to be handled, and being the reliable, loyal, and dedicated employee that I am, I took care of what needed to be done, as I always do.
I said in my previous post that I believe 2026 is going to be a great year, and I still believe that. But here’s the truth: I am still sick. I went back to work last week, and it was not good for me.
I am exhausted, physically and mentally. I am depressed and anxious. I cry when I talk about my biggest trigger, something that has been present on and off for many years. I am in disbelief over what has happened in the past few weeks. I feel disappointed, heartbroken, stressed, frustrated, and overwhelmed by it all.
A few close friends know what I am going through, as do some of my sisters. And of course my therapist. They support me as much as they can. I can’t talk for long without breaking down.
I’ve walked this path before -the path of depression and anxiety. The pain. The fear. The nightmares. Waking up multiple times a night. The uncontrollable sobbing when therapy begins. But I know this will pass. I am doing what I can to move forward. Even if it takes me two hours to get out of bed, I still get up. I shower. And then, most days, all I want to do is sit in front of the TV.
My little pup understands me. She stays glued to my side. We go outside, she does her business quickly, and then she looks at the stairs, standing there for a moment, asking silently to walk up. Sometimes I give in. Other times, I tell her I can’t and we go to the elevator. And back to my safe place we go.
Writing is therapy. So I pushed myself to come to this page and to share this. Life is full of unexpected things, even when you feel storms brewing.
I am sharing this because it helps me, and because when I’ve shared my experiences in the past, I’ve received positive responses. It reminds me that we are less lonely in our recovery when we share our stories. We hear echoes of our own lives. We look for ways to help ourselves. Writing helps me, and I hope it helps you too.
This weight I feel is not just depression acting up, there are real reasons behind it. Reasons I can’t share right now, but they are devastating and very real. My mind is constantly full: things I have to do, need to do, should be focusing on; yet I don’t have the energy or drive. Still, here I am, trying to get somewhere better, little by little.
These are the facts of my life right now:
- I am depressed
- I am a survivor
- I can still see the good in life, even if it doesn’t make me feel better yet
- I have people who love me
- I have things to look forward to, even if the joy feels muted
- I love deeply and am loved deeply
- My strength will return, I don’t know when, but it will
- My depression, anxiety, PTSD, and everything else will not rule my life forever
- I wish my mom were here
- I am grateful my children are planning to visit often in the coming weeks (this is what helps me most right now)
- I need to recover
- I need to continue therapy
These are my uncertainties:
- When will I get back to work?
- How will I manage life’s logistics?
- How do I rebuild trust in people who have shown a lack of care after years of my loyalty? Should I even try?
- What comes next?
- How do I return to the things that lift me up? Like traveling to see my children, or traveling on my own?
I am not giving up. Even on days when getting out of bed feels impossible, I am still here, breathing, trying, healing. This chapter is heavy, but strength does return. Storms do pass. And none of us are meant to walk through the darkness alone.
There is a lot on my mind. One thing that is never on my mind is taking my life.
I have never-ever, thought about suicide. I couldn’t do that to my mom. I couldn’t do that to my children. And most importantly, I believe deeply that there is a cycle of life that must be completed. When I turned fifty, I felt I had lived a full life, and if anything were to happen, I was at peace with that, but I never contemplated ending my life.
During depressive episodes, I have thought that I didn’t want to live anymore, that I was exhausted, done with the lessons, done with the trials. But that is not the same as wanting to take my life.
Years ago, I shared this with a doctor during a psychological assessment. She misunderstood me and documented that I had “suicidal fixation.” I was furious. I called repeatedly, asking her to correct it. She never responded. Later, I spoke to my family doctor -who has known me for nearly thirty years- and while he was disappointed this happened, he explained that once something is in the system, it is basically impossible to remove.
So please, choose your therapist carefully, and be extremely clear. She was the only professional who ever misunderstood me. Many others have heard my story and understood exactly what I meant.
Life is full of unpredictability, surprises, heartbreak, joy, and loss. We all have to face it. We all have to keep moving forward. And I will too.
It is January 14 (post tomorrow) I plan to publish my thoughts every other week. My Valentine’s month blog is already written, and it will be more upbeat.
For now, I’ll let you go. Stay sane. Take care of yourself. And know that no matter how bad things feel, there are people who care about you.
I do.
Sending love.🌷
PD This is a personal reflection, not a statement about my professional capacity or commitment.