You know what I did today? I drank wine out of a mug so my son wouldn’t question me. It was 12:30 in the afternoon. I was feeling so depressed that I thought it might help. It was that second mug that finally put a dent in it.
I realize that the trauma of my mother dying is making me depressed. Very understandable. This may be the most normal reaction I’ve ever had to anything.
I have to get my act together. I think it’s the three weeks on overdrive trying to make her feel comfortable, help my family and come to grips with her dying. Now with nothing left to do I feel like I’ve fallen off the edge of a cliff. That’s when the depression set in.
It’s “normal”, but when have I ever been normal?