I haven’t blogged since 2017. That year brought such intense heartache, first, with the flood of Harvey, and, just weeks later, the death of my grandmother. Suffering from treatment-resistant depression, the only words I felt like writing were morose and depressing, themselves. I just could not see the sun, through the clouds. There were only clouds, or so I felt. So, why write at all? That was my mentality. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Sam’s temperament, as he turned four years old, began to spiral, until we were faced with needing medication for him to function and sleep. His therapy center dismissed him, saying there was nothing more that could be done at their facility, for Sam. And, being completely transparent, I had a full on mental breakdown in their lobby, after they told me this. I was furious, and every emotion that I had stuffed so deep down into my belly, rose up and came out like fire. I cried; I yelled. I accused them of not caring about Sam. I was broken. I was grieving. I was empty. But, mostly, I was in mourning. Mourning, for the loss of our house and things from the flood. Mourning the loss of my precious Granny. Mourning my life that was pre-depression. And, mourning the child that I thought I’d have in Sam. Please understand, that the amount of love I have for Sam never wavered. But, here he was, four, and not sleeping until two or three in the morning, every night. He was banging his head; he was aggressive, and he hurt us every day, with biting, scratching, and pinching. We cried. All of us. A lot. We all just wanted him to be better. We just wanted a “typical” life, not the chaos that was our home.

So, this is where I begin again.. more to come.