Over a year after his death, and I find that I am still cycling through the five stages of grief. There is far less anger, less bargaining, less denial. There is even some level of acceptance. Depression seems to cling on. There are periods of time where I feel I can hardly move because of it. Today I accomplished something for the first time in a long time. I prescribed myself vitamin D and went out to the yard to get things done for the fall. But depression still hurts, still lingers, and jumps out when I least expect it to.

There are days now where I am understanding more of how Kody felt on a day to day basis. I look ahead to the span of years that I am to live without him and am frozen on the ledge of those years. I joked before with my friends that I was having a midlife crisis since my grandma and mom didn’t make it to sixty years old. There are days where I feel like that would be a blessing. Days where it feels nice to think I might only have around thirty years to live without Kody in my life. It is easier to look at thirty years than to stare ahead at fifty, sixty, or god forbid seventy more.

The truth is that those extra years look scary, because I worry that the years won’t improve. That every year will be like this first year. I know it isn’t likely to be the case. I look back to myself a year ago and know that I’m in a much better place now than I was a year ago. Which means I will be in an even better place a year from now, two years from now, ten years from now. Standing at the edge of all those years is what is scary.

I can avoid depression if I stop staring ahead, do what I did today, and stay in the moment I’m in. While I know that this is the healthiest option, there are still days where laying in bed feels better. I can drain moments away watching TV and sleeping. Sometimes, I can go to bed the moment I get home from work and stay in the strangeness of my dream world.

I hope that for me this depression continues to remain temporary. I don’t want to be like him, trapped in moments of paralyzing anxiety, unable to see a future that I want to be a part of. Luckily, my depression is situational, not chemical. I can force myself to get up and spend time outside. It is possible for me to push through the depression and get my work done. It still hurts. But I can go on. I can continue through the five stages of grief. I know it will continue to get better.