Hey beautiful people! Welcome back to Lilydope, once again. I hope 2020’s is treating you great. I cannot believe it is the end of January, already. Whenever I notice how fast time is flying by, I wonder if our Earth is actually revolving around the Sun at the same speed it used to before. God knows. Regardless though, I think that this should remind us to always make the best out of everything.
The only thing we can never get back is precious TIME! The word Precious may sound very familiar and probably becomes too obvious when you hear many people saying “Time is precious, do not waste it”. However, only time reveals you the importance of it. How ironic!
The older I get, the more I meditate on this interesting phrase, and the more I want to go back to when I was a child and more specifically to when I had my mom, Lily on my (our) side.
You guys, my mom, Lily, was absolutely the most kind hearted individual I know thus far. Yes, death is inevitable. However, I did not wholeheartedly know that back when I was thirteen. My mom actually was ill and hospitalized for a couple of months. However, never in my life had I ever imagined that she would not come back home from that night where she just went to visit her doctor. That is when she was told to stay in and therefore admitted for that night. Overnight passed, days added, and then days and nights, days and nights, days, and nights and non stop days and nights, and before we knew it, it was already past February. I have vivid memories of me and my family heading to Sembel Hospital to visit my mom. It was unbearable. I cannot put the worries I had into words. I lived in a complete fear. I would come back home, put all of her photos ( from childhood- till then) in that order, and place it on my bed stand before I got to sleep and I would ask God, please heal my mother. I am sobbing remembering those days as I am writing.
I would go the next day to see if she felt better. I hoped. There was also this cute little church in my neighbour hood. I always made sure I went there before I headed to my mom.
There were days where my mom was not able to recognize us. There were also days where she felt better and advised me a lot of things. She would even ask me if I was getting my menstrual cycle on a regular basis. She would then advise me how clean I must always stay. She then proceeds and asks me about my school. On the days that she was able to communicate throughly, she would say word to word, “When I get better and get home, we will do a welcome home party”. My mom loved dancing guys. She always made me dance with her and especially on holidays besides the traditional coffee celebration. The only year that I remember I did not see my Precious mom not dancing was in 2009 and that was because her health was slowly deteriorating. It was devastatingly sad beginning of 2009 for me and my family.
What was even worse is that she actually was starting to get better or the family were pretty much fooling us because we were “kids”. There is this idea in our culture where a child must not know about one’s passing and especially if the person ceasing is their parent, then telling them is absolutely forbidden until a certain age. Their intention behind their decision of not telling is of course for a positive cause, however I personally wish I knew. I say this because I did not have the closure I needed and especially because it was possible. I struggled to accepting the passing of my mom because I was being told that she was okay and that she was getting better. I was absolutely conditioned into believing that I was going to see her again, at home.
It was that then awful Monday. I remember I had science presentation towards the end of our last class in 8th grade. I could not wait to finish and hurry home to see mama, because we were told that she was coming home on that date like weeks ago. They probably said that to us to make us feel better or maybe they honestly were expecting her to get better too… I do not know.
The reason why I brought up the whole story is because I was mentally challenged afterwards. I was scared of dying. I would be up, wide awake all night looking after my self and my siblings for an extended period of time. At times, I see the sun rising before I went to bed … and that is when I felt better and assured that there was actually another brighter day ahead.
I could not even say the word death in my native language. I was fearful. I worried.
I used to tell my family that I stayed up all night because I was scared of death. However, nobody took me serious. And, honestly I never even took it serious, because I did not know. They did not either. The whole point of this story is to tell you guys that I suffered from these thoughts for a very long period of time to a point where I sometimes could not fall asleep. I then get to class or to work the next morning late. I hated it. I felt empty for a long time. There were also times where I did not know what I was feeling. I was confused and nothing in my life made sense to me.
There were times where I told myself, no Saron… it is just in your thoughts. You are doing this to yourself.
However, seeing my old self now, I tell her now, no Saron. You were wrong for judging yourself like that. You just did not know better.
I also agree, that I did not know and that even when I thought I knew, I did not take necessary actions. For example, visiting my family doctor and talking about how mentally I was being challenged from my mother’s loss. Another thing I could have done was going to a therapy session where I could have been open about my experiences. I also would have most definitely related with people and felt that I was not the only one who was going through the same journey.
Is it just me or isn’t there something about vulnerability that is beyond powerful that seems to calm the storm?
Through God, and time, you guys I healed.
It was a very long challenging journey.
However, I gained immeasurable strength and faith which is the most rewarding gift, no one but God could have only given me.
Therefore, I receive the grace and pass it on, the way I can, through writing, and sharing my story one step at a time, so you may also do the same, one day and inspire others to share their story, the way they can to continue inspiring others.
That is the only way out. By helping one another.
Inspired by the Canadian Telecommunication company Bell Canada which promotes mental health awareness in order to also eliminate the stigma attached to mental illness, I say, please LET US TALK!
It is okay not to be okay….
Thank you for reading!
Till next time
Love & Blessings