R
ruth
I know we've had similar discussions before but I'm curious to hear some perspectives on life after OHS. In respect to full disclosure, I live with chronic depressive disorder and am under the treatment of a psychiatrist. I had my first major depression at age 16 and a few more since then, I understand what that is and feels like and my battle with depression has been under control for several years now. I'm not addressing that with this post, however.
I find now that after OHS as my life returns to 'normal': ie. working, caring for family, life in general, that when I read in the paper or hear on the radio a tragic story I burst into tears almost uncontrollably. I'm not depressed, mind you, but moved by what I've heard. Listening to NPR, the author of "Prisoner of Tehran" describe her story and I cry, I look at the Washington Post today, the crash on the Chesapeake Bay bridge, and I cry. I reflect on the Holocaust on Yom Ha-Shoah (a recent Jewish holiday in remembrance of the Holocaust) and cry. The reality of the fragility of life is very palpable to me these days. It reminds me of my brother who was 19 when drafted to be a platoon leader for the 82'nd airborne in Vietnam and returned 2 years later and cried when the evening news described a random act of violence. He was a big, strong, very tough and stoic guy before he left.
To cut to the chase, do any of you feel a similar change or outlook on life?
Thank you in advance for any replies or reflections.
Wishing you peace and health,
Ruth
I find now that after OHS as my life returns to 'normal': ie. working, caring for family, life in general, that when I read in the paper or hear on the radio a tragic story I burst into tears almost uncontrollably. I'm not depressed, mind you, but moved by what I've heard. Listening to NPR, the author of "Prisoner of Tehran" describe her story and I cry, I look at the Washington Post today, the crash on the Chesapeake Bay bridge, and I cry. I reflect on the Holocaust on Yom Ha-Shoah (a recent Jewish holiday in remembrance of the Holocaust) and cry. The reality of the fragility of life is very palpable to me these days. It reminds me of my brother who was 19 when drafted to be a platoon leader for the 82'nd airborne in Vietnam and returned 2 years later and cried when the evening news described a random act of violence. He was a big, strong, very tough and stoic guy before he left.
To cut to the chase, do any of you feel a similar change or outlook on life?
Thank you in advance for any replies or reflections.
Wishing you peace and health,
Ruth