It's hard to believe that someone, who spent his life making others feel happy, was so incredibly sad.  The news of Robin Williams' suicide sounded like an oxymoron.  How could so much laughter and sorrow coexist?
  
All the news anchors are asking the question.....how could this happen?  Robin Williams was so loved....so many friends, fans, a loving family.  I could only think about how easily it could happen.  We're busy, busy, busy.....scurrying around to the next slot on our bloated schedules, texting our greetings, and wishing friends well on social media and we think that's a normal relationship.  After all.....saves time that way......the gift with which we are most selfish. 

I'm guilty.     

With all of our high "tech-ness", we probably have less face to face time with people now than ever before.  We text, Facebook, post, email, and comment.  We like, poke, favorite, tweet, retweet, send E-cards, snap chat, FaceTime, Words with Friends, and instant message, but my generation and the ones that follow us probably spend much less time actually visiting, talking, or in the actual presence of our friends than our parents and grandparents did.  How could we become this advanced and connected with the whole world and yet be so isolated from each other?  Talk about an oxymoron.  There's something quite sad about that.    

I had a brief brush with depression after Carson was born.  I'm no expert and no one would want to fork over a co-pay to see me about matters like this, but I did learn some things during the few weeks that I spent in its presence..... 

It is a dark place.  It can take a vibrant, strong, energetic woman and turn her to stone.  It has a way of making you believe it is here to stay.....that it's not going anywhere and you get anxious considering the possibility that it's telling you the truth.........but it lies.      

It distorts your perspective.  Convinces you that you're the only one feeling this way.  It heaps on guilt and adds a little shame.  It takes away your reason.  Depletes your energy.  Makes everything seem like a chore.  It dulls the senses.  Makes you feel weak.  It tells you that you're alone. 

Depression is not an indication that you lack faith.  It is a sickness that can be treated if necessary.  Get help if you need it.           

It's more common than you think.  I don't go around telling unsuspecting people in elevators about the time I had postpartum depression, but if someone confides in me about a similar problem, I take the opportunity every time to let them know that I've been there, too.  Just knowing you're not the only one is a dose of good medicine and may be just the encouragement that someone else desperately needs.  This life stuff is hard.  We need each other.    

Most importantly, I learned......the sun will shine again.  You will wake up one day and feel joy again and there will be excitement in your voice and a bounce in your steps.  The night will come when you go to bed looking forward to the next day. The light will return in your eyes.  You will sleep soundly.  You will even laugh until your stomach hurts and Coke comes out of your nose....it may not feel like it, but Coke will come out of your nose again and you will feel alive once more. 

And when the clouds have lifted, the joy will seem brighter than ever, because we always appreciate the sun more when it's been stormy for a while.

Just hold on.  God has not left you.

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."  Psalm 34:18
                     

I'll be gone for a couple of days.  Blair's moving day is almost here!  A week ago, I moved her large pile of worldly goods from the guest room to her room.  Yesterday, I moved them from her room to the dining room.  I know this sounds like a lot of senseless moving, but I think it helps my feelings to inch it a little closer to the garage.  It's therapeutic for me.  Tonight, we will, alas, load it into the car and I can breathe a sigh of relief. 

I'm going up there tomorrow, so that I can do some Mom volunteer work in the kitchen at Blair's sorority house.  I certainly hope that I don't blend in too much with the sorority girls.  Perhaps I should wear some type of badge that will help distinguish me from them.  I don't want it to be confusing for anyone.   

After I put in my day in the kitchen, then we'll move her in on Friday which is also her birthday.  She'll be tied up all day and into the night in meetings, so we've scheduled her 20th celebration when she comes home next weekend!

I'm sure I'll have a lot to write about when I get back from this adventure!