Let's Talk

For the first little while, I imagine this is exactly what shell shock feels like.

A deep ache, sense of displacement from one’s body,
a sucking swamp of painful waves of sorrow.

Stuck in a loop of sad. Over and over. 

TV helps distract from the roaring in my ears. 

But it does not substitute for Going Through It.

The hardest part is the inability to hold a damned thought in my head.

I open an e-mail window and forget why.

I pick up a tool, head into a room, and forget why.

I sleep for a few minutes, then I wake. 

I cry. 

I have never cried like this in my life. I have made myself sick crying.

My face is changing. Bags are appearing under my eyes. 

I look in the mirror and see Exactly Why He Left Me.

But in those few moments outside of my body, 

when I disconnect from the bruised Ego,

put aside words like Humiliation, Embarrassment, Disrespect,

for a brief moment,

I know that I am better than that.

I know that the Lea who is going to find a way to rise above 

even this cliche moment

is so much bigger than this.

So, I talk. I talk to my psychotherapist, yes,
but I talk to my family. My friends.
I am open with my boss and colleagues about my current state of brokenness.
And I am getting better.
Every day, a little bit. Every day, more focused on my future rather than my past.

Without talking, I would have shattered.
Without asking for help, I would have sunk.
The difference between now and eight years ago is stunning.
Now, it's ok to ask for help.
Now, I can be open about how I am coping.
Now, I can share my story - and keep going.

Thank you to the Bell's Let's Talk Campaign. Thank you to Do It For Daron. Thank you to I'm Not Myself Today. Thank you to the champions for mental health at the Royal Ottawa who have been reaching out to us for years to show us how this Revolution is going to save lives.

Talk. Share. Ask for Help. You are not alone.