Medicated depression, day #774
I'm not dead. Yet.
Crazy busy at work, meetings and research into various topics. Somehow I became the goto-guy for everything network, only because I understand one to two thing about them, now I'm pulled into almost every project or issue that touches a network .. which is plenty.
Anyhow, I'm off on vacation soon, dad said he wanted to travel a bit and since he's over 90 years old now but still mobile, I guess this will be his last international trip, I asked to follow along with him. So, we're going to central Europe, meeting up our old neighbors, possibly checking our old house .. I haven't been back since 1981, if remembering correctly.
I still have some guilt feelings about mom, for not feeling enough. I won't say I just shrugged and walked on .. but not far from it. I blame the SSRI, the anti-depressives, for not feeling much. But I talked to a psychologist about it and they said it could be because I was there, I cared for mom the last week she was alive, had a traumatic episode when she just screamed "help me" over and over, I held her hand, afraid, "mom what can I do to help you" .. she dozed off again for a few hours. The psychologist said that I was prepared, I knew what was coming. And it did, sunday morning of the week I cared for her, she passed away.
No more pain, no more agony. She looked calm. I held her hand for a while, talking to her, saying my good byes, kissed her forehead.
"Bye mom, see you in Nangijala"