Mantra Monday: The Reality of Losing A Parent In Your 20s

It was just another day. But I had been really sick all day. The kind of sick that tells you something is wrong but you cannot fathom what's truly happening. I spent all day at work getting worse by the hour. I had no idea what was happening to my body. When I got home from work, I sat on my futon, trying to gather myself and finally accepted I had to lay down. The moment my head hit the pillow the phone rang. It was a local number from back home, I almost didn't answer but something told me to pick it up.

I did. It was the police. My dad was found dead in his home. Our neighbor went to check on him after he wasn't answering his phone and no one saw his car move for the day. The officer was explaining that he had passed away and someone needed to come to the house. I screamed. I swore. There was no way it was my dad, we had just buried my grandpa, this wasn't happening. The officer calmly explained that it was him, he had called a friend to get my number as he was standing next to my dad and my picture hung on the wall. It was in that moment that everything I had ever known was about to change.

I called my aunt. I had no idea what else to do. I could barely breathe, she went to his house, and confirmed what I already knew. I laid on my living floor unable to move, unable to fathom what to do next. I was five hours away. Then the thoughts quickly started flooding my head, my brother, my little brother, he was at school, my sister, my family, his friends. I realized very fast I had to get my shit together and be strong for my family as I had to then call my sister and soon my family would know. As my family rallied to get everyone together and make sure everyone knew, I packed a mediocre  bag of stuff and got on the road.

It was the same trip I had just made a couple weeks ago, but that time my dad was calling me every 30 minutes updating me on my grandfather's condition. I continued to drive as my phone never stopped ringing, from my friend's parents to my best friend panic stricken as to why I didn't call anyone before getting on the road. Secretly, I didn't want to tell anyone, I didn't want to utter those words, I didn't want my dad to be dead. But he was. No rhyme. No reason. He was gone.

Throughout most of my 20s, I spent my time going to college and working, a lot. I had experienced a lot already in my young life and finally had overcome it all to be a successful young adult. I had graduated from college, moved and began traveling as a therapist. I went from assignment to assignment. My dad and grandpa packing my car each move. I rarely came home as I was obsessed with my student loan debt and felt it was best to work as many shifts as I could. I was naive. I never thought about how short life could be. But I always made sure to remember every birthday and anniversary and came home for those moments I felt were non-negotiable.

As time went on, I experienced the loss of some friends and the unexpected heart break that eventually lead me on my health and fitness journey. I was on a mission, I had a financial plan and I thought I was in control. Little did I know that I was about to watch my entire world be eradicated and truly face the most difficult challenges of my life.

I never thought my dad would die. Honestly, the man had suffered more injuries and had more health problems than I can count. I sat by his bedside more times at the hospital than I can count at this point. He worked hard and he pushed his body to the limits. But, he was focused on his family and his children. He helped take care of my grandpa, took charge when he became the only parent and he dreamt of walking me down the aisle and becoming a grandparent. I never pictured those things like he did but he was sure he would be there. I knew my father wouldn't live to be a hundred but I never thought he would be taken so suddenly. I expected to have his honest, sometimes harsh opinionated self well into my true adulthood. I expected him to be there when my brother graduated college and went onto graduate school. I expected him to be there when he was in fact right and I did settle down.

If only real life was like a movie and we got everything we thought we deserved.

There's no guide to how to deal with the death of a parent- especially not when you bury your parent unexpectedly in your 20's. There's no book that can tell you about the lowest of low moments when you are walking through your kitchen and you go to call your dad to ask him something about your car...but there's no person on the end of that phone call. As a millennial, I've spent most of time surrounded by college, work and technology. I would text my dad, but rarely called. He left voicemails and I would be annoyed because I would have to listen to them for him just to text me the same information (stupid now I realize as those voicemails I clung to this last year until they were accidentally deleted when my phone was transferred).

Many people think of their parents as the pillars of their family unit, they expect that one day, when they are old, that they will pass away peacefully in their sleep. Honestly, I never expected my dad to go in such a fashion that he did. Since our abandonment at such a young age, I just expected my dad to always be there. After my grandfather's sudden passing, I was overwhelmed with grief. Focused on my own heartache, not focusing enough on his. Looking back on every family event, birthday, holiday, argument and lesson learned, I choose to only remember the good times, his huge smile and overbearing hug.

When my father died, all of those memories faded for a long time. That entire week of his death, the funeral planning, the angry outbursts I had, I barely remember anything. I only remember standing with my brother next to his coffin shaking and almost passing out. I was overwhelmed in the best way at the amount of people that came to pay their respects. My dad was an honest man, he never apologized, he lived unapologetically, and sometimes that rubbed people the wrong way. But, at those calling hours, the people standing in line out the door and down the street, all of that didn't matter. Every single person told a story about how my dad helped them, how he stood up for them, or how he assisted them in ways I had no idea about.

In the year since his death, I've learned a great deal about grief and myself. I've learned that grief is far more complex than I could have fathomed and there is no right way to go about it. Grief is not linear, it's more like a terrifying roller-coaster that takes your breathe away standing in the produce section of the grocery store when cherries are being distributed for the first time. Some days I feel happy and content, and other days I cry, I feel anger exuding from my pores at watching my family suffer. The depression sets in and I try to bargain with myself on how I could have been better, done more, just been able to tell him no matter what we went through I really did love him and all of his quirks good and bad.

There have been many lessons I have learned and honestly I've learned my friends don't understand unless it's happened to them. That they were a great support in the beginning, but I know it's hard to be supportive when you don't really understand what I am going through. They have lent me a hug, advice, an ear, but honestly they get to continue living their life where I felt stuck in a dark hole. Some have grown distant, I won't lie. They either don't return phone calls, text messages, or haven't reached out at all. Initially it was upsetting, I couldn't understand anymore loss. I've learned everyone deals with death in their own way. Some are comfortable facing it head own and others mask it. I've experienced both and choose not to judge.

One of the greatest lessons I have learned is that those memories, good and bad, are sacred to my family and I. I choose to only remember things that bring me joy, the times when my father loudly cheered from me from the stands, the times when my father so bluntly told me to get over heart break and failure. I recall the many soccer games we sat on the sidelines watching my brother. If anything, our dad told the world about how proud he was of us. We may have had a roller-coaster of a relationship at times but how could you not. He was faced with being a single parent in an incredibly difficult situation trying to explain to his daughter how she was abused by her biological mother and then abandoned. I'm sure I didn't make it that easy either as we have the same addictive and  head strong personality.

All of the memories, the pictures, the thoughts written on his funeral page, they keep him alive in our hearts and in our minds. He's gone. There's is no changing that. But it will forever be a life lesson on how to conduct myself on a daily basis and the importance of remaining appreciative of those who remain in my life. As I approach the anniversary of his sudden passing, there is no doubt that he is sitting up there with my grandfather and best friend watching me strive to be a better more inspired person. I feel his spirit, it's not the same, but it's there. I strive to not focus on everything that is missing, I try to not picture who will walk me down that aisle, or if I am blessed to have a family, who my kids will be taught the foundations of life that  my father and grandfather shared with me.

It doesn't get easier. No matter what people tell you. That's bullshit  and I will tell you that everything does not happen for just "a reason." Because honestly, if you live your life and suddenly die, I hope to God that it wasn't just for one reason. Instead, I know that eventually over time, we will get used to living our unexpected reality. I know my father would tell me to plainly stop crying. To buck up and get the f**k over whatever is bringing me down. I got my harsh sense of verbiage from him lol. I'll cherish the good memories, the difficult times that we eventually got through and forever will remember how he affected all of our lives. But life does not stop my friends. No matter how painful the day you are enduring, life keeps going. It took me months to adjust to my new normal and understand that life is never going to be the same.

Take it from someone who placed their life on hold, held back and refused to be open with others about their true feelings. No one can say anything to you to make you feel better. Everyone will tell you how sorry they are and people will genuinely mean it. It will get hard to come up with responses knowing that it's going to make that person uncomfortable, so instead say "thank you." Understand, mourning will hang on you like a shadow during your day to day activities. Death is a very messy business. I've gone through his possessions, complied his things, emptied his house with my family and tried to preserve his presence as our lives have continued visiting him at the mausoleum telling him about what's new in my life.

But you cannot stop functioning, you cannot put off life, your bills, you must keep moving even if it is at a slower pace because your loved one would want you to. And even on your most difficult days that you find yourself angry at God because you feel like an orphan, know that their love hasn't changed and their memories forever remain.

What Losing My World Taught Me About Depression and Anxiety

"Depression and anxiety are so much more than a response to life happening."

 Throughout my life, I have been trained to act a certain way, to behave according to specific religious and morale values. Throughout my life, I've overcome multiple adversities and my brain has taught me to block out a significant amount of time with horrible memories. Throughout life, I have been trained on how to handle what is physically wrong with my patients from amputees to burn victims.

Because of my training, I know how to act, I know what caliber of a person I should be and can be. Because of my adversities, I know what it's like to go without basic needs at times, to know what it's like to question where we will be staying after being evicted and I know what it's like to fear being loved because inside those awful years of abuse are still lurking.

Because of my professional training, I know what to do if a patient codes and stops breathing, I know the code of conduct if a patient completely becomes unresponsive and I know what to do if a patient is being neglected. Most of what I know has become second nature, I know how to motivate others, how to fix situations and how to block out anything I do not want to remember. Throughout my life, I've done everything I can to be a light, to be the person I want to see more of in the world and to lend as many helping hands as my world allows me to.

Thus, I've established a rapport with my patients, they know they can rely on me and trust me. Those who know me on a personal level know they can come to me with problems, they are able to trust me and know that my actions are always of a genuine, kind hearted nature.

Then, one day, I got a wake-up call. My grandfather who had a massive stroke, was not going to make that full recovery the doctors thought he would. Instead of having the three months together for him to recover, I made the most unexpected drive of my life rushing home to be by my family's side as he passed away. Looking back, I don't think I handled his loss in the best manner. I focused a lot on my personal pain... shut the world out from anger. Slowly started to change without even realizing that it was happening.

Then, a few weeks later, I got a second wake-up call. This time the police. I had been sick all day. Awful sick. It got worse as the day went on. As soon as I laid down to nap, the phone rang. The officer explained to me my father was dead, someone needed to come over and identify him because he was gone. I screamed. I swore. I denied his words. But he knew me. He knew my family. He was just trying to do the right thing because my father deserved peace. It was in that moment that I realized I had a connection with my father far greater than I ever understood. So I made another hurried drive home, calling my family along the way explaining the awful news to them...I made it home that night and  realized this wasn't a nightmare. This was life.

It wasn't long before my third and final wake-up call, the passing of a person who turned from being a friend to my rock. As I watched her battle cancer over the years, I never in a million years thought this would be the outcome. Throughout our friendship, she taught me more life lessons than anyone I know. It wasn't until I met her, watched her battle while still giving her all to her family and friends, that I realized what a blessing each moment of life is.

There is no sugar coating necessary. My anxiety, my depression, it was raging fiercer than ever and that fake smile I put on daily was eating me alive. I was completely lost for several months. I did things. Said things. Yelled...a lot at God and honestly stopped going to church because it was too painful to go alone. I never thought this was possible. I had done everything right I thought up until that point. I lived my life by the book. I attended church every week. I made trips home as often as I thought possible. I give 110% to every single job I had ever taken.

All of my training both professional and personal did nothing for me to minimize the problems and reactions I was having. Anytime someone came to me with a problem, I could give them the best advice and help them find the right solution. I'm an expert at working hard at life, but I was only ever focusing on what was expected. After enduring these few months with my family, I began to realize how important mindset and mental health truly are to successfully holding it together in the darkest of times. It became increasingly obvious that this mental health battle was underway and I hadn't even suited up. Portraying strength for others when you are broken is not an easy task. My experiences lead me to learning the importance of establishing a positive mindset to cultivate true happiness and safely handle my issues.

Of course I was skeptical about reading personal development, sharing openly on social media about my family life and importantly respecting those who are no longer with us. I had been taught that praying and trusting in God made all things possible. That living by the book enables success. That being a good person is the foundation to happiness. But my approach to life wasn't enough. You cannot quickly problem solve death, especially when it is unexpected or tragic.

By exclusively focusing on my anger and everything I no longer had, I missed opportunities of growth, development and relationship building with those who still surrounded and supported me. I had failed as a friend, daughter and person. Depression and anxiety are so much more than a response to life happening. It's the reality that you are human, that you bleed just like everyone else but also that you care whole heartedly about everything and everyone around you.

Learning how to recover from tragedy is essential to successfully handling mental illness because there is no quick fix. It's easy to get upset when we spill our coffee, it's easy to shout at the person who cuts us off and it's easy to blame God for our pain when "he took them away." I've learned that when you possess more negative thoughts and emotions than positive ones, you are more likely to respond to life in a negative manner. Too many of us underestimate mental illness, we feel like talking about our struggles is taboo, not justified. We think we should "just get over it." "Get it together." We underestimate the importance of mental health. We focus on the physical but forget our mind and our hearts need strength too. There is no absolute in this.

Mental health is not an all or nothing, one word summed up phrase. It's something we have to tend on a daily basis. Establish positive affirmations and visualize our dream lives in order to properly focus our attention. This can be established by focusing our attentions on the areas of our life that bring light. The areas that brought happiness before the loss and realize that it's going to take time, trial and error to overcome the times in our lives that break us to the core. These moments are true opportunities for us to establish ourselves in this world.

Understand that we are not in control at all times like we would like. However, we are in control of our mindset and the way we react to situations. At first are hearts are broken, we say and do things out of character because we are lost and just need guidance. That's okay. But denying we need help, pretending we don't hurt just like everyone else only hinders are ability to heal in a healthy manner. Realize you matter. Your anxiety and depression do not make you any less of a person. Mental health is not a destination, it's a process. Focus on how you drive, not where you are going and you will enjoy the journey.

Transformation Tuesday: I'm Sorry For What I Said While I Was Grieving

Before I write this....yes I know I don't need to apologize, or explain or even rationalize the person I became after my world was taken from me but I hope that openly writing this will not only leave behind some of the worst moments of my life (my reactions to loss not those I grieve for) but also to help others who are struggling with grief as well.

Life happens.
It's really really unfair sometimes.
Honestly, it is downright painful.
And we don't always get an explanation as to why things happen.

We are taught to plan.
We are taught to prepare.
We are taught to work hard.
We are taught to be genuine and caring.
We are taught to love.
We are taught to live.

But.....we aren't taught how to grieve or how to handle sudden loss....or cancer.

This isn't something you'll find in a book.
Or something you'll understand until you experience it.
Grief has a pattern but that doesn't mean our broken hearts follow it.
Elizabeth Kubler Ross had it right but death doesn't just come with old age anymore.

Someone once told me "death happens in 3s" but the number has surpassed 3 a long time ago and I am still waiting for it to end. As much as I appreciate the support,  I've heard a lot of things that people generally respond with because they don't know what to say....

--> You'll get through it, be strong.
--> They're in a better place now.
--> I guess it was their time to go.
--> Everything happens for a reason.
--> It's been a while, isn't it easier for you?

Instead, as someone who has experienced a lot of loss and someone who has been a friend to others who have also experienced a lot of loss recently I know that a general statement is the last thing we want to hear. Yes, the support is appreciated and no there are never the "right words" to say when you are losing someone you love...but honestly there were no words to keep me from losing myself.

Grief and sudden loss resemble fear to me.
The churning of your stomach.
The restlessness.
The inability to eat...or over eat.
Too many sleepless nights.
The constant self-sabotaging negative thoughts.

I found myself lost more times than I cared to express...it felt like everyone else was on one planet and I was in a different galaxy. Time and time again I would try and pick myself up, support my family and friends who were also grieving but I kept falling further and further away from everyone. It started to feel like I was drowning and I wasn't grieving fast enough....like I was lost in my own sadness and I kept telling myself "that's not okay Gina" "you have to work Gina" "stop being so sad Gina."

But that wasn't right and neither was shutting the world out either. Death leaves a void that can never be filled by another, it leaves you feeling empty and angry most of the time in my case, because I felt like I should have done more. The reality I had to learn, re-learn and teach those around me is that there is no going back, no need to focus on what you should have done, the focus needs to be on what you do after loss and how you can honor those you love. I've learned that your example is what matters not your opinion but.....

I didn't do that at the first loss.
Or at the second loss.
Or even at the third loss.

I didn't do this until recently.
When I started seeing so many other people lose loved ones.
That's when I realized it was time to come back to reality.
It was time for me to support those around me.
It was time for me to share my struggles in a positive light.

Death and loss are never easy, there is no right or wrong way to handle it.
But I wasn't myself for a long time.
I was absent in conversations.
I negated to care about my health.
I missed opportunities to add value to others.
And I said things out of anger that weren't in my nature.

But honestly...that weird galaxy I felt like I was in....still looms.
It hangs over me every time I meet someone and they ask about my parents.
Or anytime I see an ad about cancer.
Or when I meet a new stroke patient.
Or when someone gets married and their dad walks them down the aisle.
That weird galaxy...it's pulling at me, trying to get me to go back.
But I REFUSE to be a victim to a difficult situation.

So instead, I made a choice 3 months ago to rally.
I started to dive into personal development.
I read a lot of blogs about unexpected death.
I started going home more because I know it's where I needed to be.
I let go of people who weren't healthy to hold on to.
I started to let myself envision what I wanted for my life.
And....I started to invest in the world that's been saving my soul-my coaching community.

It's not easy to wake up every single day and realize...that wasn't a bad dream.
This is my life.
Yes...I said those things. Did those things.
Forgot soo many things.

But I also have accepted:
These are the cards I have been dealt.
I intend to win the hand.
While at the same time, being open and honest to inspire others also struggling.


So this is from me to you....I'm here and piece by piece I'll regain myself one day.
My sincerest apologies to those who watched me live out of an angry heart.
My sincerest gratitude to all of you who didn't let me float away.

Love Gina Marie