Pancakes

In the words of an old Millie Jackson song, I'm depressed as shit. 

I'm not talking clinical depression, my best friend and one of my sisters suffers from that monstrous disease and it's nothing like what I feel.  I just have good old fashioned- my dad died and I miss him like hell every single second - depression.  Of course it didn't help that his death was immediately followed by an extremely painful case of shingles and a kidney stone. That made me stay in bed for a week which allowed uninterrupted wallowing in grief and pain.

Once I was released to return to work I accepted every minute of overtime I could. I need to be kept busy...crazy busy...and the exhaustion that follows an 18 hour work day is welcomed right now. I'm having trouble sleeping, and by trouble I mean I'm not sleeping...at all.  It's a little better now that I'm back at work, I'm able to sleep four hours a night now. Not four hours straight, but still it's better than nothing.

I'm praying this horrible depression is because my birthday is a few days away. I'm not depressed about turning 50, as a matter of fact until my father died it was a day I looked forward to with eager anticipation. Now I dread it because it will be the first time in 32 years that I won't receive a phone call from my father singing Happy Birthday.  I know it sounds silly, like a little thing...but it's a BIG thing to me. It was always the best part of every birthday.

My daughter worked really hard planning a surprise party for me and I tried to be happy...I really did...but I felt no joy in my heart. Of course I was also in a lot of pain..but I think mostly it was just being sad.

I need to snap out of it. I know it's a long process and I will always miss my dad...but I'm no good to anyone like this and it certainly isn't what my father would want. So I decided to start the healing process with pancakes. I've been craving them for a week and this morning I had three of them...drenched in warm syrup...for breakfast.  No, they aren't on my diet, but I don't care. The pancakes made me feel better, and right now my main goal is to feel better.

I had...HAVE... a lot of great plans for this year. My first marathon, raising money for diabetes research by riding 100 miles in the JDRF Ride to Cure, walking a 50 mile marathon to celebrate my life and show people that 50 is just a number, more fundraisers to help pay for Brandi's diabetic alert dog and pancreas transplant...all important things, all things I'd discussed with my father...all things that made him proud of me for being advocate, an independent woman, a devoted mother, and a survivor. I have a lot to work to do if I'm going to meet any one of those goals, let alone all of them.The most important of all of these is the Ride to Cure. My daughter is diabetic, my father was diabetic, two of my brothers and my best friend are diabetic.  My granddaughter and son are at high risk for developing diabetes. This insidious disease is working it's hardest to destroy those I love most, so I must work even harder to destroy diabetes. I will not, CAN NOT, rest until there is a cure and my loved ones are safe.

I've always told people that happiness is a choice.  You CHOOSE to be happy even when faced with horrible events, illness...even death.  Life is precious and it shouldn't be wasted by moping around in a life long pity party. I know, I've had horrible things happen in my life, I still have horrible things in my life.  My daughter is still critically ill, I'll always be afraid my cancer will return, we still live paycheck to paycheck and have outrageous medical bills,  I see the worse part of humanity every day...but I'm going to follow my own advice and CHOOSE to be happy.

It's what my father would have wanted.